The Sanguine Wood
by angrbodagiantess
Summary: While on a trip to Alfheim, a young Thor and Loki encounter trouble in a large forest. Pre-Thor. No slash, brotherly love. Loki-whump.
1. Of Brothers and Brigands

**A/N: Here I am doing something I told myself I wouldn't do: posting chapters of a story I'm not finished with yet. I'm always going back and correcting earlier chapters, and I'm a perfectionist, so I prefer to start posting only when the story's complete. Buuut anyway... Here's me trying _not_ to be such a perfectionist, and just writing a story for fun and not thinking about it too much. Hope it doesn't come out crappy! ;)  
(To all of you waiting for the sequel to _Ex_ _Nihilo_- no worries! I'm still working on it, just thought I'd work out my writer's block by trying some other stories.)**

******_Important Note_: This takes place about 900 years before _Thor_, so Thor and Loki are a little over a hundred years old. My headcanon is that Asgardians/Aesir (and Jotnar) mature a lot slower than us- but only _mentally_. So they still _look_ like adults, but they're mentally in their late teens to early 20s or so.**

**Warnings: none this chapter, future chapters will contain: some torture and blood (but I don't think it's that bad, you'll have to be the judge, though, I read lots of scary stuff), Loki-whump (sorry Loki, I'm mean)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Thor_ or any of the characters therein, although the new characters in this story are mine. If I did own Thor and Loki, oh dear, I'd feel bad for the guys. XD**

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**- Chapter 1 -**

**_Of Brothers and Brigands_**

Thor was bored. Very bored. He was bored because he was on Alfheim, lingering in some gods-forsaken forest watching his brother pick _plants_ for whatever reason. Thor had asked him what they were for, only to be bombarded with sarcasm regarding his inability to comprehend were it even explained to him.

Plants. There were plants _everywhere_. Why did Loki need these particular ones? For his experiments? His sorcerous concoctions? Thor didn't really care, he just wanted to go home- or go _anywhere_ but _here_.

The light elves were good enough company, but unfortunately, there were none to be found in this ominous and oddly quiet forest.

The trees here were taller than any Thor had seen, even on Asgard, their dark trunks wide, a few as wide as houses. The evergreen air was misty and hung about in a strange quiet, with not a single gust of wind to move the shadowed leaves. The ground was sporadically covered in grass and fallen leaves, the bushes and other myriad groundcover large enough to hide behind. Barely a sound made it through the great trunks, even the birds seemed asleep, despite the hour being somewhere around midday.

Thor had been sitting on the ground, cross-legged, leaning on a nearby tree for nearly an hour, watching Loki pick through several branches which he had gathered into a neat sort of line at the center of a clearing.

_Always so meticulous, brother_, Thor mused.

"Loki, how much longer?"

The trickster didn't look up. "We've only been here for two hours, Thor. And if you recall," he finally looked up, a gleam in his eye, "_I_ didn't ask you to come along." He returned to his plants.

Thor rolled his eyes. _No, you didn't..._ But he wasn't about to give Loki the satisfaction of saying it. It was, in fact, _Thor's_ idea to follow his brother to Alfheim. Loki had been travelling to other realms quite frequently of late, and Thor was becoming worried for him. 'A prince of Asgard, traipsing about the Nine Realms without an escort? It could be dangerous,' Thor had said earlier that day while following Loki to the rainbow bridge. 'Well,' Loki had said. 'You're one talk. Who was it that had to retrieve a drunken thunder god from some backwater tavern on Vanaheim? Oh yes. It was _me_, after _you_ had disappeared for days on end without telling anyone where you were going!' Thor had shrugged, smiling, not about to give up. The truth was he was also a little curious to see exactly _what_ his younger brother had been doing on these trips, which usually lasted little more than a day or two. Loki had said it. 'You'll be bored, _Thor_.' And how he _hated _it when the trickster was right. _Always right_, Thor grumbled to himself.

He sighed loudly but his younger brother pointedly ignored him. Thor started picking up stray leaves and throwing them around, then sighed again.

"Stop that," said Loki suddenly.

"Stop what?" Thor asked in earnest.

The younger god looked up in annoyance. "That _sighing_. It's distracting." He picked up a small pile of leaves and put them in a small leather pouch which he hid away in a larger cloth pouch on the ground.

"Distracting?" Thor wished _he_ had a distraction. _Anything_ would do right now. "Well would you prefer I start hacking at a tree trunk again?"

Now Loki sighed.

After the first hour here, Thor had removed his sword and started sparring with a tree trunk, half out of boredom and half out of a desire to annoy Loki, as he knew it would. His brother had, impressively, ignored him for several minutes, but of course, had yelled at him to stop or he'd turn Thor's sword to ice. Thor was certain Loki didn't have that ability- not _yet_, anyway. Although the thunderer disapproved of Loki's insistence on continuing this pursuit of such a _womanly_ art, Thor supposed that at least his younger brother was good at it. His spells so far mostly consisted of creating simple illusions and concocting potions from reagents gathered, but he was improving- and _very_ quickly. His practicing in the battle ring had suffered, but Loki had quickly become bored of training with weapons after he started studying magic more earnestly.

.

Several more hours passed and the two princes had moved from place to place, stopping whenever the mischief god needed to sift through whatever plants he had collected.

Thor was even _more_ bored, if that were possible, but the younger god continued ignoring him however much his older brother whined.

"Brother," Thor said, trying for the hundredth time. "The sun will go down soon; should we not return?" Loki glanced at him as he picked a grey looking- and fairly ugly -flower. "Or at least we should stay the night in a town. Sleeping out here seems...unwise." Thor looked around, hoping his slight nervousness didn't show on his face. A strange fog had settled nearby, but hadn't quite reached them yet. And the _sounds_- or _lack_ of sounds was even more eerie with a mist lingering so close. They walked side by side, slowly as if they were taking an afternoon stroll through Asgard's golden streets.

"'Unwise', Thor? Since when do _you _think before-"

Thor heard a strange _whistling_ sound and pushed Loki aside- and himself -just as an arrow flew between the two gods.

The trickster fell to the ground from the momentum, falling on his back. "Thor-?" But Thor was running, already having traced the flight path of the arrow.

"Stay here, Loki!" he yelled while running headlong in the direction of the archer. Possibilities ran through Thor's head, but he had little time to think since he caught sight of a brown hooded cloak at the edge of the mist. He gave chase, only stealing a glance behind to where Loki was a moment before entering the edge of the fog. His brother was on one knee now, staring wide-eyed in his direction, just as Thor entered the mist and everything disappeared behind it.

.

It took Thor almost two minutes before he realized that the attacker was not in front of him. After he had passed the wall of fog, he could still see the edge of the attacker's cloak, but soon after his elusive quarry had disappeared.

Stopping, Thor stood still- and near a tree for potential cover -and listened for any footsteps ahead.

Nothing.

Fog.

Quiet.

A subtle rustling of leaves to his left caught his attention, but that could just as well be an animal, running from the sounds of his pursuit. Still, it _could_ be the attacker... Thor's head was spinning. _Who would attack us?_ he wondered, walking a few steps forward, suddenly lost in a darkening maze of trees.

He sighed quietly. _I've lost the archer. Wonderful._ He'd never hear the end of it from Loki- _Loki!_ A sudden realization hit Thor. He had _left _him there. And how long had he been running? His mind went back to the possibilities he had tossed aside in his frenzy to catch the mysterious bowman. What if it was just a distraction? Perhaps there was more than one? A single assailant to distract one prince while another-

A distant scream broke Thor's thoughts, shattered them into a thousand pieces as his heart was clenched in a violent grip.

_No..._ It was _Loki's_ scream. Thor would recognize that voice anywhere- he even knew what Loki's _sneezes _and _coughs _sounded like, even from afar.

_No no no no._ Thor was already running, his legs moving without permission, toward where he had left his younger brother. _Please be a joke. One of Loki's jests, a trick..._ His mind raced alongside his legs, throwing hopes around that promptly fell to the ground, discarded, as soon as he reached the clearing where he had left Loki.

There were leaves and dirt scattered about- a clear sign of a struggle.

Thor was frozen, he couldn't move. He could only stare, and _breathe_. Drops of blood littered the ground, and he saw one of Loki's daggers covered in it. Another of his daggers was embedded in a trunk across the clearing- something like cloth, brown, caught at its tip. Loki had fought back. _Good_, but it was a small comfort. One arrow stuck out of the ground, one more had landed in a trunk. A single long blood smear, still dripping, painted a trunk near Thor, as though someone's hand had pulled against it-

Thor didn't know what to do. Should he go after them? Who are they? What would they want with Loki? Did they know the two princes, or was it a random attack by brigands? And if the former was true, how much would they have to know about Thor to be assured that only _he_ would run after the archer and not Loki as well?

His mind was swimming, he felt dizzy. He briefly contemplated running back to the Bifrost site, but it was too far and it was getting dark- he didn't want to leave Loki here, not knowing what purpose the kidnappers had for him. What if they meant to kill him? _No_, Thor thought, if that was their intention they would have killed him here. Still, there could be nothing good about this, Thor _had_ to get him back- and soon.

He moved into the clearing now, heart beating like a drum inside his head. His instinct was to run, just _run_ and hope that he could catch up to them. But it was foolish, he knew, and exactly the kind of thing Loki would scold him for. _Think_, he told himself. _Look, see, observe..._

He could track them. Yes. They would have left a trail and Thor would be able to track them. _Nothing _would stop him from getting his brother back. Nothing.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The first thing Loki's mind registered was that he was upside down. The next thing was that he was moving, walking, _no wait_, walking? No, _he_ wasn't walking, someone else was. Someone near... The next- and very _sharp_ -thought was that of pain. Pain radiating out from his right shoulder, spreading across nearly his entire body. He tried to move, reach out, do _something_, but his arms weren't listening to him. _Well_, he realized, they weren't so much not listening as _tied up_. They were behind his back; his left wrist was tied near his right elbow, and his right wrist tied near his left elbow. The position was extremely uncomfortable. His ankles, too, were tied together. And he wasn't _upside down_, he was being carried- his body having been thrown over someone's shoulder. Someone wearing a dark brown cloak that Loki could see trailing in swift movement before his eyes, the leafy ground passing by quickly beneath.

The last thing he noticed was that there was something in his mouth. He felt with his tongue and lips, something roughly round and cloth- _a gag._ He had been silenced. _Well,_ Loki thought, _do they gag me because they know I am a sorcerer? Or is it to silence me from crying out for rescue?_ The latter possibility he much preferred, since it pointed to the idea that these were mere highwaymen, perhaps looking for ransom? The moment he thought it he knew it was ridiculous. Clearly these men were sophisticated enough to use divide and conquer tactics, and their fighting prowess, while fairly primitive, was more than effective. They had blitz-attacked Loki, catching him off-guard. They had used the fog to hide their approach, then when near enough, they attacked with arrows first, then with spears. One of the arrows had caught Loki in his shoulder and the assailants had pounced on him, ensuring he could not recover from his fall to the ground. The rest he remembered very little of, except that the arrow hurt much more than he remembered arrows hurting.

If these men indeed knew that he was a sorcerer, then it was unlikely they would ever remove the gag; in which case, Loki had little hope of escaping on his own. Words were necessary to cast spells- at least at his current skill level -and slurring or mumbling would never work.

Well, whatever these thugs had in store for him, Asgard would know what they had done. Heimdall would- _Oh no._ Loki suddenly remembered why this was one of his favorite realms to visit. There were natural- supposedly natural, anyway -pockets of magical cover that would mask the sight of any seer, even one so powerful as the gatekeeper. There was another much smaller area near here that had the magical barrier, but none Loki had discovered so far were as large as the one in this wood.

He internally scolded himself for such foolishness, he simply had never thought...

Loki had one hope, that Thor had figured out what had happened, and was now searching for him. His brother was an expert hunter and should have little difficulty in tracking the group of men- _unless they've masked their trail, somehow..._ He shook his head, refusing to give up his single hope.

"We should make camp," said a slightly muffled voice nearby.

"No," said another muffled voice, the one who was carrying Loki, he guessed. "The other could be close behind. We are not stopping until we reach safety."

_Safety..._ Loki felt a small smirk twitch his lips. _Do they fear Thor, then?_ Loki had counted at least six men while fighting, did they not think they could take on one thunder god? It, unfortunately, added to the evidence that these men were organized and disciplined, aware of their own strengths and weaknesses. It was true, six men- such a small number -would be no match for Thor, even were the thunderer weaponless, and even more so if he were angry. Especially seeing what they had done to Loki, he would make short work of them.

His hope growing, Loki fell back into unconsciousness, blonde hair and a red cape skirting the edges of his dreams while his captors hurried along.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Night had fallen several hours before but Thor was determined not to stop for the night. It was nothing new, as he frequently skipped resting while pursuing especially clever prey on hunting trips.

Before he had left the clearing where Loki had been taken, he collected both of Loki's knives, tucking them into his boots. He meant to return them to Loki since they had been a gift from Thor and their parents. Thor had wondered if he should have taken one of the arrows- Loki had a strange fascination with odd items, and the fletching on the arrows were strangely colored and different enough to be eye-catching.

_Considering gifts? _his own mind mocked him. _Is that how you intend to make it up to him?_ But what was there to make up for? That he had left him alone, told him to 'Stay here, Loki!'? Would it have made a difference? Thor's heart sank. Yes. Yes it would have. The two princes complimented each other perfectly in skills. Thor the berserker, the melee fury of blunt power and force, throwing himself into the fray with nary a thought to hold him back; Loki the thinker, the magic-wielder, ever the careful strategist, a mind sharper than glass, a razor's edge slipped between ribs before a breath was taken. But this whole mess, everything that had happened could not be thought through because Thor had not _thought first_. Let us run straight for the enemy, Loki! What could possibly happen? And the nagging thought that Thor had acted rashly out of _boredom_ was certainly not helping.

This forest was even stranger at night. During the day it was quiet; even a whisper seemed able to topple the tallest tree. But here, in the oppressive dark, suddenly there were _too many _sounds. Thor couldn't help but wonder why his footsteps on the soft grass and leaves made such a noise. Why his breathing seemed so labored and much too loud when he felt his chest move with practiced ease, not strained at all. And was there an echo? He was certain every noise he made was repeated somewhere, as though the air itself felt it necessary to mock the prince of Asgard, whispering like vicious children who snickered at your back and remained silent when you turned.

He wanted to yell at the air, tell it to be silent. But he did not wish to alert any who might be near of his approach, if indeed he was anywhere near them. It was too dark to see clearly, but Thor couldn't quite make himself stop. Something, _something_ about the air, the feel of the ground, the leaves that seemed disturbed before he stepped upon them told him he was on the right path. Perhaps his instincts were guiding him, perhaps it was chance, perhaps something else, whatever it was it didn't matter; he _would not stop_.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"We should stop, Seren!"

"_Shh!_" said the man carrying Loki. "Be silent!" His voice was whispered, agitated, almost..._afraid?_

The night was cold and Loki shivered, and yet he somehow felt glad of being carried. His back and arms were cold, but being carried meant he could share in the other's body heat, even if he'd just as soon be colder if it meant he could walk himself.

During their brisk travel through the darkening forest, Loki had noticed- with slight nausea -that the arrow that had struck him was still embedded in his shoulder. The men had removed both ends of the arrow, but had not taken it out, to the trickster's growing apprehension._ Why haven't they removed it? _Loki had thought. But after a while he realized why. The wood splintering his nerves was agonizing, but there was something else about the wound that made Loki lose consciousness continuously. He wasn't quite certain what yet, but whatever it was worsened the pain every minute by small quantities, spreading out like a poison. _Poison?_ He wondered about that, too. It _could_ be a poison, but there was no way to know for certain without being able to examine himself.

"Seren!" said the muffled voice of the groups' most nervous member.

Loki felt his carrier stop. "If I must tell you to be silent again, Arn," came the harsh whisper, "I will leave you to the Blackwings in short order!"

_Blackwings?_ The word sounded ominous to Loki and was apparently enough to quiet the other men. Even so, the air somehow seemed _louder_ now than ever, their steps nearly echoing off the tree trunks, their breaths like scratching sandpaper._ Why is it so loud?_ It was, but it wasn't. The forest itself seemed quiet enough, but every noise the travelers made was amplified in some way, as though they had all been cast into a small box without any of them noticing.

As if they noticed it as well, "Seren..." whispered someone; not Arn this time. "The sounds..."

"I know," said Seren in just as quiet a voice. "Ignore it, you know that."

"No, no, no," croaked out Arn the Nervous One.

"Arn..." Seren said in warning, he was their leader Loki had already concluded.

Another man spoke, one that had not before, "Seren, we should have stopped... the sounds-"

"The sounds are nothing," said Seren quietly. "Control yourselves."

Some time passed as they walked quietly across the forest floor, their footfalls as loud as walking on broken glass. Loki was again about to lose consciousness when a startled yelp jerked him back to awareness.

"Arn!" yelled their leader as quietly as possible. "Stop- do not remove- Feriel, stop him!"

Seren was moving about, his jerky movements agitating Loki's injuries and causing the arrow to move a little when the man's back collided with it. Loki gasped in pain and hoped Seren would stop moving soon. But instead, the agitated noises made by his captors was increasing, as the sounds of a scuffle could be heard- and quite easily heard given the way sound moved in this place.

"Arn!" said Seren again. Several other men yelled his name as well. "Leave it off, no! It doesn't matter now, just stay back- No, stop him-!"

A piercing cry broke the air and Loki jerked his head this way and that, trying to glimpse who had made the horrible sound. He felt his head pounding from all the blood already flooding it, his stomach clenching and his breaths quick and strained. What was happening?

Then suddenly Loki felt himself being thrown to the ground. He had no time to look around to the frantic men, though, since there was a sharp and throbbing pain in his head.

If he had looked up, the trickster would have seen his blood on a rock next to his head.

Loki passed out before he saw one of the men approaching.

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**A/N: So a new story for ya guys. Any good? I must admit I feel a bit annoyed with myself; posting chapters before I'm done *sigh*. I hope there aren't any logical inconsistencies or plot holes. But if there are, please point them out to me! And as always, please inform me of any grammatical errors if you see them.**

**I'll try updating every week. I'm afraid my habit of updating sooner when there are any cliffhangers probably won't be happening with this story, mostly because I need time to complete chapters. Sorry! ;)**

**Also, I apologize in advance if I get some writer's block and stop updating for a while- but reviews might encourage me to keep going! *wink wink* *nudge nudge*. I also apologize for my tendency to write ridiculously long author's notes. X3**


	2. Ramblings of Madmen

**A/N: Chapter two for you! Now I'm rhyming. Lame... Aaanyway, I didn't want to leave you guys hangin' for the rest of the week so I decided to post chapter two early. I'll probably be posting chapters somewhere between Thursday and Saturday from now on, though.**

**Have fun with the early update!**

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**- Chapter 2 - **

**_Ramblings of Madmen_**

The god of mischief and lies was swimming- no wait, not swimming, standing? _Don't be stupid_. Not standing, _laying_. Yes, lying down...somewhere. _Where was I?_ Something cold was touching his face, and something wet was on the back of his head, both cold and warm. He felt pain but it seemed so far away, like twilight that teetered on the edge without the sun's rays to break through- no. Not yet. _Still so far away..._ He was glad of it; he tried smiling now, but his teeth felt restrained, cold like ice. He thought if he closed his mouth they would shatter along with his fragile jaw. And his eyes... _Where-?_ _Oh right._ He opened them, his lids heavy and slow, like snowfall weighing down the roof of his sight.

_What is touching my face?!_ He suddenly felt agitated, then he realized his eyes were closed again. He forced them open, hoping to glimpse whatever was-

Eyes.

Mouth.

A face, an unfamiliar face. He couldn't quite make it out in the darkness, but it was definitely a face. And a hood. Too dark to see colors- _who is this man?_

Loki tried to move his mouth again, to speak, but remembered his ice-teeth so he remained quiet. _Ice...blood..._ His mind, his _brain_ was somewhere... near... _Where did it go?_ The man's face was nearing, _smiling_, with white rows of little things Loki forgot the name of. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something- no, _someone_ -moving side to side, arms up and down, far away but still too close.

The thing was touching his face again, it felt like icy fingers. _Where is my mind?! Am I here? _His eyes were closed again, he felt a warmth leaving his body, slithering out the back of his head. _How did snakes get in there?_ In the distance he heard something, howling as though there were a moon, but there was no moon... only the sun. _No!_ There was no sun! Loki scolded himself, almost laughing. He opened his eyes again, it was still so dark. _Too_ dark. The thick trees facing him and _leering_.

The man's face still smiled, looking to him, _passed_ him, into him. _Who is he?_

Then a voice speaking, the words a whisper from the man with white things littering his smile. "Yes, yes," said the man. "I know you. You are my son. Do not worry, son. Do not worry..."

_Son?_ Loki was sure he was not this man's son. His smile wasn't right, and his teeth were too bright- _teeth! That's what they're called!_ _Teeth!_ The trickster god laughed at himself, then petted himself on the back- or he tried -for remembering such an important word. He continued laughing as the strange hovering man laughed too.

"Feriel!" said a booming voice. Loki's tongue was trying to move again, but he was suddenly afraid of drowning, certain his teeth would melt if he spoke. And his arms... _My arms!_ _Oh no... what have they done?!_ He didn't know where they were, he began to panic. _Have they taken them? How dare they!_ He was angry, angry enough that he wanted to scream at them, tell them he would get Thor, and then _Thor_ would make them give back his arms! And his legs! _Oh no no no, where are my legs?_ He felt them, _some_ part of them, but only from the knees up. _I will tell Thor, you'll regret this! All of you!_ Loki struggled but soon realized he wouldn't be able to move very far without arms and legs. He started laughing. _Then why do they hurt so?_

"Feriel!" someone said again, closer now. "Get away from him! He is not your son!"

Suddenly the man's face was gone, replaced by darkness. Then there was another face, a face that was not a face. A dark hood covered this not-face, and the voice came without moving lips.

The Man With Not A Face looked back, away from Loki for a moment, "Nefre, get away from Arn, he is too lost in his madness. Help me with the Odinson."

_Odinson!...Odinson?_ Loki tried to smile widely, but minded his fragile teeth. _That's me! Is...is that me? I think that's me. Should I not answer?_ No! Loki shook his head fiercely. _They took my arms and legs and froze my teeth; I'll not say anything!_ His spiteful urge made him feel better, but he couldn't feel _too_ much better considering his mind was spilling out the back of his head like a frozen river.

"Nefre! No, I said- Arn! Nefre, stop him-!"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Thor awoke to the sound of a drum. But realized next it wasn't a drum, but his heart. His heart beating so fast he feared it would shoot out of his chest. And his head- oh how his head hurt. _Why-? _He was on his stomach, his hands already checking his throbbing head. The leaves and grass beneath him told him he was... _Where-?_ The memories came shooting back, fast and painful. Loki, boredom, quiet, plants, trees, Loki, an arrow, running, Loki, blood, darkness, night, _where's my brother?_, sounds too loud, too quiet, then... Nothing. Sleep.

The thunderer jerked up onto hands and knees, then sat back on his heels with a grunt.

"Loki..?" But Loki was not here. Still gone, still missing.

It was still dark, still night, but the edges of morning were already creeping in.

Laughter nearby.

Thor whipped his head toward the sound, then blinked rapidly when he saw a man sitting on his haunches at the base of a large tree. The figure laughed again.

"Who..?" Thor's voice was whispered, it felt somehow _wrong_ to be too loud here. "Who are you?"

The man, a very small man, chuckled and crawled closer, head tilted. Thor leaned backward, not caring to be too close to the odd little creature.

"Sleep well?" said the little man, voice hoarse and yet filled with mirth. He had beady little dark eyes and wild hair sticking up every which way with leaves tangled in the grey strands. He wore a long fur cloak held loosely about his body that appeared to be stitched together from several different animals. His legs were mostly bare, as were his feet. Every inch of him was filthy.

"I..." began Thor, uncertain what to make of the man. "Who are you?" The thunder god looked around, wondering if the man might have companions- whether he was _with_ the ones who took Loki.

A wide smile grew on the man's face, face tilted. "Does it think me wicked?"

Thor's eyes narrowed at the man. "What?"

"But you may call me Furrow," as if the thunderer had asked. "Furrow's the name, nice to meet you?" Thor stared at him, then blinked. _Was that last part a...question?_

"Furrow? I am Thor, son of Odin, I have-" he stopped. He suddenly remembered _why_ he was here, what he was doing. Looking for Loki! "I am sorry, Furrow, but I must leave with haste. I am looking for-"

"Someone? A man? A boy? Does it have a crown like midnight, mask like moonlight? Eyes like blades of sharpest grass?" His words moved quickly through his teeth.

The dark eyes stared at Thor, unblinking with painted smile. Sifting through the odd manner in which the man spoke, Thor's eyes brightened as he stood up, shaking away the light dizziness and the headache that still pounded. "Loki? You've- you've seen my brother? Yes, he...he has black hair, pale skin and green eyes. Have you seen him?"

The man nodded. "Of course. Naturally. They passed here, no sleep with masks on. They can't sleep, you see, too much in a hurry, I went to peer at their visiting, I don't like-"

"Please...sir," interrupted Thor, he was becoming frustrated with the man's incessant babbling. "_Have you seen my brother?_ If he passed this way, can you tell me in which direction they went?"

Furrow's eyes lit up, "Ooh! The Thor, the son of Odin doesn't see what he would have seen. Would have seen if I hadn't come along. Hadn't come along to put him away, away to sleep without _seeing_, without seeing and hearing the way the colors dance."

Thor furrowed his brow, suddenly questioning the wisdom of trusting anything this mad man might say. But what _was _he saying? "What... I do not understand your words..."

"Did you not see? Oh of course you didn't." Furrow stood up suddenly, straightening himself. He was indeed a _very_ small man, about half Thor's size. His legs were like dirty twigs in mud. "I helped you, don't you see? The others I won't help; I don't like them, flitting this way and that, taking what doesn't belong to them. They can see what the forest bleeds. Oh yes, I'll let _them_ see."

Thor didn't know what he should do. Should he ignore the man and move on? Surely their trail had not gone cold yet. But no... Furrow had clearly seen Loki; overly poetic description of Loki notwithstanding, it was nonetheless accurate. He had to try and get his help. "Furrow," Thor said sternly. The small man stopped fidgeting and peered curiously at Thor. "Can you please answer my question?"

The man looked confused. "Of course, of course. Why not ask? I'm here, I'm _right_ here for any questions. Ask away." Then he folded his arms and waited.

Thor resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. _Only a madman to turn to for help._ "Furrow," he began. "Can you point me in the direction of _where_ you saw these... men?"

Furrow looked up a moment then beamed, "Oh yes! The men! Bad men, I don't like them. I helped you sleep because I like you; not them, I don't like them-"

"Yes, yes, I know." Thor was losing patience. "Which _way_," he tried as politely as possible whilst still being firm.

"Hm," Furrow looked about, then without turning to the direction, he pointed. "That way. Passed the old cliffs on the right, then across the winding river. Easy to find, can't miss them."

The thunder god smiled gratefully, thanked him, and prayed to Odin that the man was not as mad as he seemed. And he was infinitely more grateful when the tracks he had been following earlier seemed to follow the small madman's proposed path.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The moment Loki's mind came back to him, he realized he was being moved. The man- Seren, who seemed earlier to have no face but that now Loki realized was a mask -was standing over him while another man dragged the mischief god away. His thoughts _hurt_, if that were possible, and the strange sensation of having somehow lived through a surreal nightmare washed over him. Bits and pieces came back to him; of ice and cold things and- _missing limbs?_ He almost laughed but remembered the gag, and the inappropriateness of the action given his situation.

Light lingered at the edge of his vision, as Loki recognized the first rays of the sun peering through the thick trunks. But Loki had little time to enjoy the light as he was suddenly engulfed in darkness, something soft and black placed over his head.

Next, he found himself once again being carried over someone's shoulder, as the sounds of movement floated around him. The party was moving again.

.

It soon became apparent that the group had passed into some sort of indoor environment- albeit a slightly chilly one. The sounds of a nearby waterfall echoed across stone, and Loki guessed, by the echoes, they were now underground.

The men were silent, their footsteps reverberating off the cave walls.

With his head still splitting and his shoulder no better than before, Loki wished they wouldn't carry him in such a manner, the odd angle and pressure causing pain to shoot through his body with his carrier's every step. _Why must they carry me so? Why not allow me to walk?_ It wasn't as if he could run away in his current condition; the number of men alone made it ludicrous to even attempt it.

After a few more minutes passed Loki decided it wouldn't hurt to at least _try_ to get his request across. Other than the initial capture, they didn't seem inclined to hurt him.

So he tried to speak, making a mumbling sound to alert his captors. When nothing happened, he tried again, a little louder.

"What does it want?" said someone behind him. _Why are there voices always muffled?_

"_He_, Krineolus; stop with all that 'it' business you're always on about," said an equally muffled voice.

"It, he, she," said _Krineolus_, who had a scratchy voice and an odd accent the trickster didn't recognize. "It makes no difference- all your kind are the same."

"We're not even the same _race_, you idiot. He's Aesir, I'm Vanir. Get it straight."

The other made a _hmph_ noise in response, as if shrugging.

"In any case," said a newcomer to the conversation, who had a lilting smooth voice. "What _does_ he want."

Loki made another noise, this time trying to make it sound pained- which wasn't too difficult since he _was_ in a lot of pain.

"I think he's hurting," said the man who had been arguing with Krineolus.

"It's hurting," said Krineolus flatly. Then he sighed in frustration. "What does it expect us to do?"

"Shut it with that 'it' rubbish! Should I start calling _you_ 'monster' now, fire giant?" He then laughed. "That would be more appropriate anyway since calling you a 'giant' at all is as ridiculous-"

"Quiet, all of you!" came a familiar deep voice from far ahead. _Seren?_ Loki thought.

There was silence for a moment, and they had stopped moving. In case their leader was inclined to show mercy- or perhaps some common sense -Loki tried moving, only to cry out when an agonizing pain like fire spread throughout his body. He breathed harshly through his nose.

"Put him down," said Seren. After they obeyed- setting Loki on the cold stone ground on his back which was terribly uncomfortable with his arms tied so painfully behind him -the leader spoke. "Prince Loki," began Seren. _'Prince'? How strangely polite. _But Loki didn't have time to think on the oddity of it or the fact that they knew his name. "I am willing to allow you to walk yourself the rest of the way, if that is what you would prefer-" Loki nodded quickly, but stopped and grimaced against his gag at the movement. Seren continued: "Do not attempt escape or removal of the cloth over your head. Nefre!" he heard fingers snap. "Cut the bonds on his legs."

There was a sharp tugging, which seemed unnecessarily rough, but was effective nonetheless, then he felt his legs suddenly free.

Loki mumbled what was meant to be a 'thank you' but wasn't certain if they understood him.

His legs were stiff and he was still in pain, but he was glad of the freedom of movement- however small -and tried his best not to slow them down for fear of being bound and carried again.

Disconcerting as it was, he followed along blindly as they guided him, the path gradually moving downward, the air steadily getting colder.

.

Something like an hour had passed and Loki was ready to pass out only halfway through. His joints were stiff and his muscles _burned_. Even worse, the area around the broken arrow still protruding out of his shoulder had gone numb, which worried him greatly. Even so, at least he didn't feel the pain of the wood jostling about with every step.

When he was finally allowed to stop, he immediately fell to the floor, but was unable to catch himself as he cracked his already hurting head on the hard stone. A fleeting moment of regret passed through him when he didn't lose consciousness, but someone was speaking, and he didn't recognize the newcomer.

"You fools!" hissed an elderly man's voice. "Is it your habit to let valuable prisoners fall and crack their skulls?!"

Loki could do nothing but breathe as best he could behind his black hood, wondering if this man was the mind behind all that had happened.

"Master," said the calm voice of Seren. "I apologize for our lateness, we had some... setbacks in our plans-"

"'_Our_' plans, Seren?" Whoever the man was, he didn't seem to mind his minion not heeding his first question.

"Your...plans, sir. I apologize."

There was quiet for a moment, then: "Hm. Well. In any case, I care nothing for your lateness, it's given me time to perfect my techniques. What... setbacks did you have?"

Footsteps and clothing shuffled around Loki. "The..._other_ Odinson was there. However, we quickly adapted our strategy and-"

"Other?" said the older man. "Ah yes. The brute. He's of no consequence, did he interfere?" Loki almost snorted. _What a ridiculous question; does he expect him to answer?_ Then as if he read the trickster's mind: "Nevermind, I don't care. Set him on the altar."

_A-Altar..?_

* * *

**A/N: Loki, Loki, Loki... can't stay out of trouble _at all_ in my fics, can he? Alright, alright, it's not his fault- I'm just evil that way! XD Hope you guys liked the chapter!**

**(Sorry if it's not clear what's going on at the beginning of the chapter, it should be explained in a later chapter, though. All you're meant to get is that some of them were delusional/hallucinating for a bit there, ehehe.)**


	3. This Magic, This Blood

**A/N: I just remembered that I'll be gone for the weekend, so I decided to post this now instead of tomorrow.**

**Don't think there's really anything in this chapter that I need to warn for... Maybe a bit of torture, but it's not really anything just yet, lol. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

**- Chapter 3 - **

**_This Magic, This Blood_**

It was just as the strange old hermit had said. Thor followed the trail passed an outcropping of tall rocks, of grey cliffs, to his right, then barely fifty footfalls later, a winding shallow river. Fortunately, Loki's kidnappers had not crossed the river, although they most likely stopped for water. Thor did the same, then followed their trail, which followed to the left of the river for most of the way.

He thought the men careless for leaving such an obvious trail and wondered if it was stupidity and incompetence, or lack of fear that kept them from masking it. He sincerely hoped it was the former.

The sun had risen only a few hours before, and the thunder god was glad of the illumination to help him follow after his brother's captors.

Once again the air was unnaturally quiet, but there was no fog and the strange distortions of sounds appeared to have abated- _or did that truly happen?_ Thor found himself wondering.

He shook his head and picked up his pace, determined to find his brother before day's end.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"So..." said the elder man's voice, suddenly near Loki. "I can finally begin." _Is he speaking to me? _Loki wondered.

Several men had carried Loki- by his shoulders and legs this time -and placed him on a hard cold surface, on his stomach. _An...altar.._ It sounded too ominous to even consider what purpose placing Loki on something like an _altar_ might have.

The trickster god found himself trying to speak, although he wasn't certain why, his muffled voice slurred. They seemed to ignore him as they re-bound his ankles together.

The old man spoke, however, "Loki, is it? I am sure you are wondering what you're doing here. Well," the man paused, presumably for effect, "all in good time. But for now- I am Gladerean Tolst. But you can call me Gladerean." Loki would have moved his head in the direction of the man speaking, but he was too tired- and close to passing out again.

Suddenly the black cloth over his head was ripped off, and the god mumbled in faint protest at the sudden assault of lights, clenching his eyes shut.

Gladerean chuckled. "Sorry about that." Although it was clear he wasn't.

As Loki's eyes adjusted to the light, he glanced around- sadly with only his eyes, as he was too tired to lift his head -and found that they _were_ indeed in some sort of cave. Grey stone walls cut haphazardly and without regard to appearance, the room seemed made for necessity, not beauty. The 'altar' on which Loki was laid out appeared to be made of the same stone as the cave, and it was positioned atop a small dais with flat long steps all around the perimeter. The altar itself was about waist height.

Loki could see some of the men that had brought him here, milling about, but he still hadn't glimpsed their presumed leader, Gladerean, whom the trickster was most curious about. Even so, he observed the other men. A quick glance at each of them explained their muffled voices: they each wore masks- in fact, the _same_ mask. Plain grey- like the walls -with round holes for eyes and a mock-mouth engraved at the base, fake teeth as if in a grimace. Apparently carving a nose was too much trouble, Loki mused. They each also wore matching brown cloaks, although some were of darker browns and others of slightly redder and lighter browns.

Out of nowhere there was a man's face in Loki's vision. The mischief god stared at him; this man _did not_ wear a mask.

"Time is short..." _Ah. Gladerean, then._ "I should begin immediately," continued the man, although it was obvious he wasn't speaking to Loki, merely eyeing him as though he were a curious specimen, like a captured insect he meant to pin to his collection.

Loki shivered.

By his appearance Loki guessed Gladerean was either of Asgard or Vanaheim- both races being very similar -as the idea of a mortal from Midgard out here was clearly ludicrous. He had a long dark red robe, with very out-of-place golden embroidery that decorated the front in a vertical line from neck to feet. A loose gold and silver belt hung around his waist, and a golden amulet with a blue jewel around his neck. His hair was a dark brown with traces of grey, medium length and wavy, and he sported a well-groomed beard similar to Odin's, but a little longer.

The man moved out of Loki's line of sight, somewhere near his feet, circling and touching the altar in anticipation. His movements led him to Loki's other side, and the trickster felt nervous since he couldn't see him.

His suspicions were proven correct when a blindingly sharp pain suddenly ripped through his right shoulder. "I don't think we need _that_ in there anymore!" yelled the man excitedly as Loki couldn't help crying out at the unexpected pain. He bit hard onto the gag, breathing raggedly. "Oh I am sorry," _No...you're not_. "But the poison was only necessary to ensure you didn't escape. There's no need of it now, of course."

_Poison?_ Loki tried to focus his vision, realizing he was close to passing out again. _So... I was correct... poison... to keep me..._ His eyelids were suddenly so heavy. _I should... can't speak, but I..._ The pain was slipping away, the man's voice no longer concerned him as he began to drift.

_Where's...brother..?_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The trail Thor had been following led to a series of caves at the base of a small mountain, near a waterfall that fed the river. _Hm._ He wondered if he should just enter the cave or look for-

A sharp whistling sound caused him to jerk his head, just as an arrow passed by him and hit the mouth of the cave. Thor quickly drew his sword and prepared to rush the attacker when another arrow flew to him. He swatted it away with his sword and simultaneously avoided it in case he missed- which he knew he wouldn't, having done this many times before. The third arrow only made him angry as he ran toward his attacker, who was still fairly far away, slightly to the right of the path Thor had just traveled. _How did I miss him? Or... how did _he_ miss _me_?_

The archer took a sharp turn to his left- away from the river and out into the open forest. Thor was already angry and running at full force, the loss of the first archer- _or perhaps it's the same one?_ -still fresh in his mind. The brown-cloaked man was fast, but Thor was faster, driven by rage and hope that this man would lead him to Loki-

The ground suddenly fell, as Thor fell free through nothing but air and darkness. Suddenly a slope caught his legs, but he continued tumbling through the dark down a rocky drop, his body occasionally colliding on walls all the way down. He fell for what seemed like far too long before crashing head-first into the stony ground.

Thor groggily lifted his head for a moment, momentarily noticing a sharp pain in his left leg, but fell unconscious soon after.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Loki awoke to the sounds of whispered voices somewhere distant; one muffled, the other intentionally hushed. He couldn't quite make his eyes open, his lids still too heavy, but his ears picked up what his eyes could not. The first voice was no doubt Seren- the masked leader of his group of captors -and the other was Gladerean. Loki tried his best not to make a noise or move, although he very much wanted to given the pain still lingering in his shoulder. The two men were somewhere across the room, toward Loki's feet.

"...are you certain?" said Gladerean.

"Yes," said Seren, whispering even through his mask. "He's dropped into the trap-"

Gladerean chuckled. "I suppose that useless hole did indeed have some use after all."

Seren continued, "Nefre was watching. He lured him quite easily, like the first time. Your knowledge of those two has aided us greatly-"

"Yes, yes." Loki imagined Gladerean waving dismissively. "Did you move him from the oubliette?"

"Not yet," said Seren. "The men are...reluctant to approach-"

"Reluctant?" hissed Gladerean. "I should think they'd be more _reluctant_ when he wakes! Move him now!"

"And if the Odinson should wake during his transfer-"

"Then all of this will be for nothing." Gladerean seemed to be speaking more to himself than to his subordinate. _'Odinson'?_ Loki felt a surge of hope mingled with trepidation. _Have they captured Thor, then?_ It sounded ridiculous. How could anyone capture Thor?

Seren sighed. "Master. We cannot hold the older Odinson. We have no metals strong enough, the cell's door is only-"

"I know," interrupted Gladerean, annoyed. There was a pause, then: "But there's more than one way to contain a god."

Loki didn't like the sound of that.

"And... what of Arn, master?" Seren asked, voice low.

"Yes, the fool _once again_ removed his mask, didn't he, last night?" His voice was suddenly venomous, "Putting the prince in danger, putting _my plan_ in danger?" Then in a less harsh tone: "I'll deal with his idiocy after this is over."

"Of course, master." Seren's voice was resigned but firm.

.

The two men continued for some time, speaking of things Loki didn't quite understand. His head still hurt, but much less so now, and he managed to move his head more thoroughly to look around, no longer caring if the men knew if he was awake. Both his worry and his excitement grew after hearing that Thor might be here somewhere, and he was certain there _was_ no way to properly subdue his brother, although he wondered how they might have captured him in the first place.

There was a wall on the other side of the altar, much closer than the opposite side, and it was decorated with runes- spells, he assumed, although he didn't recognize them. They were written directly on the wall in two lines, written with... _blood?_ That was...unnerving.

Gladerean walked towards Loki in a swift pace, and without delay he removed the gag from between his teeth, which both surprised and confused the trickster. _Why-?_

"You can try and cast spells if you'd like, but I've already taken measures to prevent that." _Measures..?_ "Go ahead. I won't stop you."

Loki eyed him warily, _should I?_ The man was waiting, and the fact that he expected Loki to try made him not want to. _What might happen if I do?_ Not wanting to risk it- and, quite frankly, he didn't know any spells that could help him -Loki shook his head and said nothing.

"As you wish, prince," smirked Gladerean. The trickster narrowed his eyes at him, _I may not know any _dangerous_ spells, but I know plenty that you wouldn't like..._

But just because he wasn't ready to cast spells didn't mean he wouldn't use his _other_ skills. "What-" Loki coughed. "What do you want with me?"

Gladerean moved toward Loki's feet, rummaged around there for a moment- presumably in a bag -then returned to stand before Loki, leaning down slightly. "Well it's good to know you can speak-" He held up something in his hand to show Loki. "Do you know what this is?"

Loki stared at it for a moment. It looked like a flat piece of tree bark; a very dark wood, almost black. It was about the size of a common piece of paper. _'Know what this is...'_ The trickster thought of a scathing remark regarding the _obviousness_ of what it was, but couldn't quite make himself say it given his vulnerable position. Annoying the man didn't seem a good idea, at least, not at the moment. So instead he shook his head.

"No? Well, no matter. Can you read it?"

Loki furrowed his brow for a moment, then inspected the piece of wood further. There were words etched into the bark, as if by a knife, and somewhat haphazardly. Even so, he _could _read it. Unfortunately, Loki's eyes reading the piece of wood gave away that he _could_ read it.

"Ah, good," said Gladerean. "Read it out loud, please." Loki frowned at the man. _Why should I?_ was on the edge of his tongue. Gladerean noticed the prince's hesitation and looked about nonchalantly. "You can read it," the man picked at his robe boredly, "or I can have my men hurt you until you read it anyway." He looked back at Loki, eyebrows slightly raised. "It's your choice, prince."

Why should this man want Loki to read some words etched on a piece of bark? Why not paper? Although those questions rolled around in the god's head, he was more concerned with the fact that the words clearly spelled out a magical incantation; one Loki didn't recognize. _I really do need to start studying more spells_.

He continued staring at the bark, uncertain what to do. But Gladerean was losing patience quickly. "Have it your way." He nodded to someone- someone on the other side of Loki, he realized -just as a hand fell on his back, resting near the arrow wound. Loki jerked his head to the other side and saw one of the masked-men standing there poised to do something Loki was sure he would not enjoy.

"Last chance, Asgardian." _Seren..._ The fact that Loki now knew Seren was not an Asgardian himself helped him none at all.

"Seren!" yelled Gladerean. "Stop delaying! He made his choice."

Loki felt the man's hand sliding toward his open wound. "Wait, wait!" hissed Loki through clenched teeth.

Gladerean entered his line of sight. "What is it?" he said, annoyed, but expectant.

The trickster swallowed before speaking. "What- why do you want me to?"

"Is it 'what' or 'why'?" smirked Gladerean.

"What does it matter?!" seethed Loki.

Gladerean stepped up next to Seren. "It's just a little spell." Loki rolled his eyes. "As...I'm sure you knew. But the _why_, I'm afraid, is not your concern. It won't harm you, if that's what you're thinking." Loki was _sure_ he couldn't take this man's word as truth, and the fact that he emphasized the word 'you'- if just a tiny bit -in that sentence wasn't lost on him. _What is that piece of wood?!_

Suddenly a finger was poking near Loki's wound; he hissed and clenched his teeth. "What is- _ah!_" Loki yelped as a hand pushed down on his hurt shoulder. He squirmed and gasped out when the hand let up only a moment later.

"Not enough, Seren." Loki had shut his eyes in pain, but wrenched them open when Gladerean said, "Again."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Loki screamed. They stopped. "Wait- what- just..." He rested his head on the cold stone. "Just tell me what it's for-"

Gladerean shoved the piece of wood in Loki's face again, "Read it! Do it now, or I let Seren get more _creative_ the next time."

Loki breathed in and out, trying to calm his nerves. What choice did he have? Either endure pain and say nothing, or do as he said and, no doubt, endure more pain from whatever was to come. There was something about this forced spell-reading that struck Loki as sloppily planned, as though the man had just come up with the idea. It seemed contrary to everything else that had happened. _So_, Loki surmised, _this isn't what I'm here for. It's something else he wants me for._ Whatever _this_ was, it wasn't the man's primary goal.

Loki sighed. Then there_ would _be more to come, and there _wasn't_ much point in resisting now.

So, swallowing his suspicion and worry, Loki read the words on the piece of bark.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

There was something sticking in his leg. It was the first thing Thor noticed upon waking, because it _hurt_. He was on his back, on something hard, like stone. His head ached, and more so when he sat up quickly, dizzy, but still remembering what had happened. He blinked through the pain and haze and touched his head. He had fallen down a hole of some sort, and- he looked up, trying to find the hole. He searched the ceiling; there was nothing. _How-?_

The room he was in, he now noticed, was different from the one he had fallen into earlier. Each wall, and the ceiling and floor, were of the same dark grey stone, like cave walls cut into a roughly square pattern to form a room. Thor sat up a little and noticed that one wall was different. Thick iron bars crisscrossed each other instead of a wall. _A cell?_

Upon trying to stand up, Thor felt the sharp pang of something in his leg. He growled at it, before registering it was an arrow, stuck straight through his left calf. He angrily broke off the arrow tip, then yanked it out in a hurry. It hurt, but he didn't care. Whoever had put him in this cell most likely also had Loki, and Thor was eager to retrieve his little brother.

He threw the pieces of the arrow at the wall, but before standing he heard the tell-tale groan of a metal door being opened. He half-stood, shaking his head of the lingering dizziness, ready to attack, but was instead greeted with something small and dark flying passed him and cracking on the wall behind him.

_What in Asgard..?_ He stared at it for a moment, leaning down, thinking it was a weapon, but then realized it was nothing more than a shattered piece of bark.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled darkly, "What's this? Attacking a son of Odin with twigs now, are we?" He turned around to gloat more openly, but, to his confusion and delight, the cell door was still open. At least it saved him the trouble of having to break it open.

No one stood on the other side.

_Hm._ Thinking back, he _had_ heard some footsteps leaving in a hurry after the wood had been thrown. _Cowards_, Thor thought, smirking.

He walked swiftly toward the door, but before he could reach the threshold, a great energy hit him square in the chest, throwing him across the room. He crashed into the far wall, then landed on one knee to keep himself from falling. It didn't _hurt_ exactly, so Thor tried again. The second time was the same; he was thrown backward, into the wall, as though an invisible wall- a magical_ shield_ of some sort had stopped him.

"What is this sorcery?" Thor growled angrily. He walked toward the entrance again, but this time only used his hand to breach the entrance. He felt the surge of power just as his hand was repelled forcefully, his arm jerking backward.

For the first time since this trouble began, he began to worry- _really _worry. He had known Loki was in some sort of danger, but until now Thor was certain he could rescue him. But this... Thor may not know much about magic, but forming a wall of magic like this... even _he _knew it was powerful sorcery.

"Where is my brother?!" He screamed to the open door, not knowing what else to do to vent his frustration and anger.

No one answered him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Loki grit his teeth and jerked, his straining muscles pulling painfully on the ropes binding him. Just as before, the new pain subsided only after a moment. He breathed heavily as it passed, staring at nothing.

"What-" he choked out. "What's happening?"

"Well," drawled Gladerean. "I should think your brother is making himself troublesome by trying to escape."

Loki turned his head on the other side to stare at the man- _sorcerer_, Loki guessed, given his knowledge on such matters. "What does that mean?" he asked warily. "Where's Thor? What have you done to-"

He barely gurgled the last word out when the same pain in his chest suddenly spiked again; Loki clenched his jaw shut and waited it out. Just as the three times before, it faded quickly.

"I haven't _done_ anything to your brother." Gladerean wasn't even looking at him. He was moving around, preparing _something_. "He's resting comfortably," the man moved nearer to Loki, "in a cell."

"Impossible," Loki breathed out, hoping the odd pain wouldn't return, seemingly out of nowhere. He meant to say more, but his eyes caught the gleam of a silver dagger in Gladerean's hand.

"_Not_ impossible, my dear prince; there's _always_ a solution," he leaned down, "to every problem." He was staring intently at Loki, dagger resting casually atop the altar. Gladerean eyed the trickster for a moment, then leaned back. "This, for instance," he held up the dagger, inspecting it. "A key to a problem, a problem _you_ are about to help me with."

Loki stared at him warily. He remained quiet, certain the strange sorcerer was about to reveal something.

Gladerean continued staring at the weapon. "It's special... like you," he nodded toward Loki. The trickster raised an eyebrow. _Oh wonderful._ There was an odd gleam in the sorcerer's eye that Loki didn't like. "The two of you will help me, and I will... _finally_," he smiled madly, "take back what was taken from me."

"Taken from you?" The words slipped out before Loki could catch them.

But Gladerean answered him, still eyeing the plain silver dagger. "Yes... she was... _taken_ from me." His voice was pained, thick. "So long ago, during the war." Loki frowned, _war?_ "The war with..." his eyes slowly moved to Loki, "...Asgard."

The trickster raised his eyebrows. _This can't be good._

"Father?" a female voice filled the room. Loki strained to look down, seeing a young woman with dark brown hair standing at a doorway. She wore a plain light yellow dress, with a small silver-chained belt around her waist, which was held together with a small ruby clasp.

Gladerean quickly placed the dagger on a nearby wooden table- which had been recently placed in front of the bloody runed wall -and hurried over to... _his daughter?_

The sorcerer gently grabbed both her arms, stopping her from entering the room.

"Father, what is happening? Who is he? I saw Feriel, he said there was a man here-"

"Shh, shhh, it's alright, Malcinia. You shouldn't worry yourself." He pushed her back slowly toward the open archway. "He's going to help me."

"Help you?" she asked meekly.

"Yes. To return your mother to us." Strangely, the woman smiled kindly, then nodded in understanding, as if that explained everything. "I understand, father. I'll leave you to your work."

Gladerean kissed her hand before she hurried back through the door and out of the room, long wavy hair flowing. The sorcerer stood there for a moment, staring after her, then slowly turning, he returned to Loki.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, as though Loki should care. "Now, where were we?"

The trickster stared at him. "Your...wife?" Loki didn't know if it was wise to speak on the matter, it seemed a touchy subject, but he wanted answers. Hopefully the man would explain now that his daughter's presence had riled him somewhat.

Gladerean nodded. "Yes. She was taken from us, many years ago." He bowed his head slightly, sadness across his features.

"Taken-"

"Dead," he said suddenly. Almost angrily. Loki internally grimaced. "She was killed during the war with Asgard- with _your_ people."

Loki opened his mouth. "I... I was not even born during that-"

"Oh it doesn't matter, really." Gladerean waved his hand. He was coming back to himself. _Too bad._ Even so, this daughter was an obvious source of distraction for the older man...

"And... you believe I can help you?" Loki asked, honestly curious.

A wide grin suddenly spread across the man's face. Loki couldn't help but recoil. "Yes," he said through his teeth. The dagger was suddenly in his hand again. "With your blood." His face was suddenly serious again. "Yes, the blood." His gaze was distant, staring at nothing, _thinking_.

_Blood..._ _dead wife... me..._ Loki narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together. _What am I? _he wondered. _A prince?_ No, more than that._ A sorcerer..? A sorcerer!_ Suddenly it hit him, his eyes widening as he stared at the man before him. _It couldn't be..._ "B-Blood magic?" stuttered Loki.

Gladerean's gaze shifted to him. "Very good," he smiled. "So, growing up with that race of brutes hasn't hampered your studies, then?" He walked closer to the prone god.

The revelation hit Loki so hard he suddenly couldn't breathe. His heart was beating too fast in his chest. _No, no..._ _No it can't be..._ "I- I..." Loki tried to speak, he _needed_ to speak. To ask, to see what the man meant, because he _couldn't_ mean... "What- how can-" _Speak!_ "How can you..." he swallowed, steadying himself. "It-It's forbidden. You- you can't-"

Gladerean held the dagger in one hand, still half-inspecting it. "I can, and I will. Forbidden it may be, but we are not on Asgard. And your gatekeeper cannot see us here."

"But why," Loki whispered, nearly out of breath.

"_Why?!" _he screamed suddenly. Loki flinched back. "My wife! For her! I would do anything for her! She was taken from me during the war. Lost because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time! Because Asgard couldn't be satisfied with its own borders!" He leaned down close to Loki's face, eyes aflame. "With _your_ blood I will bring her back! And no one, _nothing_ will stop me!"

* * *

**A/N: I know older Loki wouldn't have given in that easily when they asked him to read that piece of wood, but I think young Loki would. He probably hasn't been in this kind of situation before, I think he'd be quite scared of torture, even if he tries to rationalize it in any way he can.**

**Sooo, see ya guys next week! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	4. Things That End This Life

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I was, once again, busy over the weekend. But here we are!**

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**- Chapter 4 - **

**_Things That End This Life Cannot Start Another_**

Gladerean appeared in a hurry now; frustrated anger and desperation framed in his every movement. It was clear now to Loki that all of the preparation the man had been doing was for a ritual, a..._blood spell..._

Blood magic had been forbidden to magic-wielders long ago, sometime during his grandfather's reign. And for one very good reason: almost every spell required the use of most, if not _all_ of a victim's blood- which almost always killed them. It was said to be an excruciating way to die, the spell's lingering effects amplifying the pain caused on the victim. For the most part, any random person could be used for a ritual; but for the most powerful spells, a sorcerer of equal power to the spell had to be used. In other circumstances, Loki might have been flattered by the notion, but right now he could do nothing but be _terrified_. And what made this man think _he_ would be the key to using a resurrection spell? There was a reason no one ever attempted to raise the long-deceased, it was insanity- and it never worked. Was it because he was a son of Odin? Certainly his father was one of the most powerful magic-users in the realms, but Loki was nowhere near that level of power- at least not yet... Still, even _potential_ power could be enough to get some spells working. It was said that the upper limits of a magic wielder's potential was fixed, and that it only took practice to reach it. Loki began to wonder if he could ever reach that limit- How high was it?

In the end, it didn't matter. Raising the dead was impossible; this man was clearly _insane_.

The mad sorcerer- for that's what he was -rummaged around frantically for items, gathering them at the corners of the altar.

"Sir," Loki tried, although he couldn't help the slight tremble in his voice. "I am sorry about... your wife. But this won't work, it has been tried time and again by other..." He seemed to be ignoring Loki as he kept working. "It won't work," he tried again.

Loki flinched _hard_ when Gladerean rushed toward him, dagger suddenly at the back of his neck. "And what would _you_ know, prince?" he hissed, breathing harsh. "You who can barely cast a cantrip! I'll save you the years of study and put the power in your blood to good use right now." He backed off, knife gripped angrily in hand.

The man finally let go of the dagger, all but throwing it on the wooden table. He continued his preparation.

_Think, Loki, think!_ His mind was swimming with fear, his words would barely form. "And..." he began, "w-what if it doesn't work?"

Gladerean paused, something like a red flower clutched in hand. "Doesn't...work?"

Loki nodded, staring at him. "I am- I am truly sorry about your wife, but I was not even born during the war. If your spell does not work... You'll have killed me for nothing..." It was a long shot; this man's sanity had clearly died along with his wife, but maybe...

The sorcerer looked down, almost penitent. "Yes... well..." He looked at Loki, something like sadness lingering in his eye. "I am sorry, if that is the case."

_'If that is the case'? I suppose you wouldn't be sorry if it _did_ work?_

"But," he continued, "I cannot know until I have tried." He walked briskly around the altar, arranging the flower near Loki's feet. "I am sorry."

Loki sighed and closed his eyes. _Perhaps,_ he thought to himself, _if you keep telling yourself that, you will be._

_... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._

During his brief stay in the rocky cell, Thor had seen two guards go by. He wondered why they even bothered as there was no way for him to leave the cell. The same with the door, which they had closed shortly after he had given up trying to walk through it.

Now he was sitting against the far wall, watching the cell's door intently. His leg was healing, although he soon realized that there was something _else_ about the wound that bothered him. For one thing, it hurt more than a simple arrow wound should; the pain spread all the way up his leg and seeped over to his other thigh. Even so, it was healing- albeit somewhat slowly -and the pain was subsiding as well. _Is it poisoned?_ Thor wondered. He snorted. _Cowards, _he thought a second time. For only cowards would use poisoned arrows on their enemies.

Out of the corner of his eye, Thor caught a glimpse of movement, in the corridor outside his cell, to the right. Something- no some_body_ -was moving around the corner.

It couldn't be a guard, they hadn't hid from him so far. "Hello?" he asked, curious.

Movement again, he caught the edge of a yellow dress. Thor smiled a little, looking down. _A woman, then._

"I won't hurt you," he said, "why don't you come out?"

A simple but pleasant face of a young maiden with dark brown hair walked into view, hands casually clasped behind her back. "I know that, sir," she said in slight amusement. "You are in a cell." She indicated the bars, then returned her hand to her back.

Thor nodded deeply. "Ah, yes." He stood up and walked toward her. He remembered not to touch the bars at the last moment and stood with arms crossed. "And who might you be, young maiden?" He doubted she was a lady of noble birth, as her dress was as plain as her features. Her hair neat but far from elegantly decorated.

She eyed him in return but held her head high. "Malcinia."

No curtsy. Either she was raised around commoners, or she doesn't know who stands before her. "I am Thor, son of Odin." He bowed his head slightly.

She nodded, "I know. I asked the guards."

"Hm. And are you not of Asgard?" Thor asked, hoping perhaps, if she _was_ of Asgard, that she might be swayed to help him find Loki.

She tilted her head a little. "Asgard? No. My father and I are of Vanaheim." She knitted her brows together. "You're the prince of Asgard, yes?"

"_A_ prince of Asgard," he corrected.

She hummed in understanding. "Then you are here for your brother?"

Thor almost touched the metal bars but instead moved a little to look at the girl more clearly. "You've seen Loki?" he asked quickly. "Is he well? Can I see him? Is he here?"

She stared at him with slight confusion at his barrage of questions, but answered swiftly, "Yes, yes, no, and yes." She looked down somewhat sheepishly, smiling kindly. "Although, I am truly uncertain if I answered correctly to your second question."

Thor thought back to what he had asked. _'Is he well?'_ He didn't like the sound of that.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Loki could barely feel the ropes through the ache burning through his arms. His feet were faring somewhat better, given that his boots were protecting him. Still, his feet wouldn't be much use, even if he _were_ free. They were far underground and he couldn't very well leave Thor here.

But even with the pain, he couldn't bring himself to stop struggling. Being killed by a mad sorcerer in his evil lair was one thing, being _slowly tortured to death_ by a mad sorcerer in his evil lair was quite another. He felt like he was shredding the skin off his wrists from his efforts to get free.

Gladerean was reciting some sort of incantation whilst walking around Loki slowly, the dagger gripped between both hands in reverence, tip downward.

Loki knew nothing about what this sort of ritual entailed, since from an early age it was drilled into his mind that blood magic was absolutely not to be used, _ever_. He had heard that magic users had been executed for even reading about it.

He stopped his struggling only when the sorcerer came to a stop to his left, holding the dagger outward.

"W-what are you doing?" Loki asked warily.

"Nothing yet, prince," said Gladerean without looking at him. Loki was _not_ convinced of that, and especially not when the sorcerer slipped the dagger into the space between the back of Loki's neck and his shirt collar, then cut his tunic in a straight line until he reached his bound arms.

"What-?!" Loki felt panic rising as his shirt was cut, piece by piece, from his body. Gladerean rolled him a little to remove the front as well, but fortunately did nothing to remove his leather trousers.

The mischief god shivered reflexively at the cold, still on his stomach. The sudden movements reminded Loki of just how _sore_ he was from his bindings and his position. He wished they wouldn't bind him in such an awkward position- his shoulders and arms were _aching_. _Does it matter?!_ He was about to be _killed_, did any of this matter?

The sound of footsteps caught Loki's attention, he swerved his head to look, but settled back down when he saw it was just one of Gladerean's men.

"Ah, Seren," said Gladerean. "Glad you could join us."

"What would you have me do?" asked Seren's deep voice.

"Just...aid me." The sorcerer moved about, standing to the trickster's right. "Stand there; I'll tell you if I need you."

Seren grunted an affirmation.

For a moment Loki wondered if he should try and reason with Seren, but he was certain it would make little difference. And Loki knew next to nothing about the man- or even Gladerean, for that matter. It was difficult to devise an escape plan with words when he knew very little about his enemies. Not to mention the constant pain of death lingering; that certainly wasn't helping any.

"Seren," said the aged sorcerer. "Hold him still." Loki saw the masked figure nod as strong hands pushed down on his back.

"Please," Loki said suddenly. "I- I am not asking you to stop, but... could you tell me what you are doing before-?"

Gladerean chuckled, and not quite humorlessly. "Ah, you wish to know your fate beforehand? Hm. I understand, knowledge is power, as they say- or perhaps the illusion of it. Very well, it makes no difference to me."

Loki struggled to control his breathing more steadily so he could listen easier, the hands crushing him not helping.

"Listen well, prince," he began. "I am about to carve runes into your back, so do try to stay still."

Loki's eyes widened, trying to get a glimpse of the dagger. "Wait, what?! Why?"

"I'm not going to explain every little thing. Now hold still." Loki decided then, he would absolutely _not_ hold still. He struggled as best he could, kicking his feet and arching his back. "I knew I shouldn't have told him..." said the sorcerer in annoyance.

Seren held him down harder. "Why do you not render him unconscious?" asked the masked warrior.

"Because," said Gladerean, helping hold down the writhing trickster god. "Because he has to be awake for all of it." _Awake? For all of it?_ _But of course._ Loki grit his teeth and continued moving around as best he could, but he was tiring, and very quickly. Whatever poison the arrow had released into his system was slowly leaving, but without his magic to aid him in healing, it was slow going-

His magic! Loki's panic-stricken mind suddenly wanted nothing more than to try a spell, at least one that would relieve any future and current pain.

The words of healing barely passed his lips before a burning spike, like lightning shot its way up his spine and into his head. He screamed and immediately flopped down, the feeling shooting outward along the lines of his body until it reached his feet and hands. He groaned and clenched his teeth tight, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh...well," said Gladerean, his voice seeming distant. "I was wondering when you would try that..."

Loki groaned again into the stone altar, _why did I have to try that _now_?_ For he now had absolutely _no_ energy to try and fight back.

The first prick of pain was at the base of his skull, just below his hairline. Loki hissed at the pain, but still couldn't move. He winced as the sharp tip moved about, forming what was no doubt runes in a straight line down his back. He felt blood begin to pool on his spine, and he wondered how long it would take.

Sometimes the knife would stop for a moment- a very brief moment -and it would start up again, a little lower on his spine. Loki couldn't help a small whimper when the blade cut a rune close to his bound arms, the pain mounting with each slice. Would Gladerean stop now that his arms are in the way? Or would he begin cutting elsewhere?

Apparently the answer was _neither_, when Loki felt hands grabbing at his arms and slowly lifting them up. He registered what they were about to do and suddenly _could not_ keep silent. "Wait! Stop- _Ah!_ Please!" The pressure wasn't letting up and his already very sore shoulders felt like they would be torn out of their sockets. "I beg of you please-!" His breaths caught in his throat as he tried to take some of the weight off with his legs, but he was too weak to move. "...please, can you not, _ah-! _tie me some other way?!" The blade quickly cut some more runes down his spine, beneath his raised arms. _Stop..._ He felt like his back was burning, and his arms were about to be ripped off.

"Perhaps we should reconsider, master, tie him another way?"

"No," hissed Gladerean. "I'm almost done with this part..."

Loki was shaking from head to toe, pained noises escaping with every second. "Please..." he barely whispered out.

"And _there_," said Gladerean, triumphantly.

Immediately, Loki was dropped as he gurgled out something incoherent with a whimper. His breathing was too fast and he felt like he would pass out- _hoped_ he would pass out, since that meant the torture would stop. _'...has to be awake for all of it,'_ Loki remembered. Which wasn't exactly a comfort, but right now he wanted- _needed_ the break. _Please, please pass out..._

He barely noticed when the cutting started up again, now down his lower back. His spine felt like it was _on fire_ and he wanted to squirm, but he couldn't quite make his body move. He was _so tired_ and it felt like an age before he heard Gladerean say, "All done," in barely contained glee. Loki wanted to spit in his face more than anything, but he couldn't even open his eyes at the moment.

Slowly, Loki began to feel his mind drifting, the beginnings of unconsciousness skirting at the edges, waiting for him to sleep.

"I believe he is losing consciousness," said a deep but muffled voice.

"Yes, yes," said another, older voice. "I expected as much. But no matter, he needs the rest before the next-"

But Loki was already asleep.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The god of thunder was sitting, once again, against the wall. The maiden, Malcinia, had left several minutes before, and had scurried away as though something had caught her attention. She had not said goodbye, but Thor hadn't expected her to. She was- according to _her_, anyway -the daughter of the leader of the group. Despite the fact that she was pleasant company, she had very little by way of information, and Thor was not overly disappointed when she had left.

The thunderer was inspecting his nearly-healed wound when the door to his cell suddenly opened with a severe screech and a body was carelessly tossed in to join him.

_No... no, not a body. Not a body..._

It was Loki. Loki shirtless and bleeding and bound-

He paid little heed to the retreating masked men as he rushed over to his little brother and- very carefully -turned him over, while gingerly holding him as not to allow his bloodied back to meet the ground.

"Loki?" Thor choked out while removing a strand of hair from his brother's too-pale face. "Brother? Please... what's- what have they _done_ to you?" Thor seethed. He felt anger rising up, threatening to override his reason. But Thor pushed it down- _forced_ it down by staring at Loki's pained visage. This wasn't the time for vengeance... _that_ would come later, he promised.

He gently carried Loki away from the doors and toward the back of the cell. Although he was concerned about hurting him further, Thor quickly decided he didn't like seeing Loki so tied up, so he ripped the ropes binding his arms, then did the same to the ones around his ankles. He tossed the ropes aside and thought about what he should do next.

His little brother's skin was cold- well, colder than _usual_ -and it worried him. His back was bleeding so Thor gently laid him down, before taking off his own cape and draping it around Loki. He then cradled him to his chest and waited for his little brother to wake.

.

It was almost an hour before the trickster god's eyes began to flutter open. Thor had felt the need to fill the ominous silence with something, so he had been regaling Loki with tales of grand adventures- nevermind that Loki had been there for all of them.

"Loki...Loki!" Thor once again cradled Loki to his chest, having had lain his brother's head on his lap while he waited. "Brother, can you hear me?" he asked worriedly.

The smaller god's eyes slowly opened, then closed, then opened again, blinking. For a moment he seemed dazed, then as his vision came into focus, he stared at Thor with wide-eyes.

"Th-Thor?" He blinked again. "Thor?"

Thor nodded and smiled, "Yes, brother, I am here."

The younger stared at the older, confusion mixing with joy. "What- How? Did you... rescue me?" he croaked out.

Some of the light left Thor's eyes. "No, brother." He hung his head. "I am sorry... I have... been captured as well." Loki's face fell a little, but he didn't seem surprised. _He knew_, Thor realized. "What... what's happened? What have they done to you? What do they want?" Loki looked _tired_, and Thor suddenly realized he shouldn't be bombarding him with questions. "I am sorry, I should not-"

"No," said Loki feebly. "You're here... so I can say-" He stopped as his face scrunched up. It looked to Thor like he was trying to keep away tears, anguish- things he was always bottling up.

"Loki..." Thor hugged him to his chest, suddenly not caring about all the questions threatening to burst out of his head. Loki gave a small whimper when Thor held him too tightly and he let go quickly, "Sorry, brother."

The trickster gave a playfully annoyed look, but sadness still lingered behind his eyes. "Thor?"

"Yes?"

"Can you put me down?"

Thor started. "Oh. Of course." But before he could lay his brother on his back, Loki protested.

"Brother, wait," he hissed in pain. "Not my back..."

Thor nodded, "Ah...yes, sorry."

Loki smiled a little- or perhaps it was more of a grimace -as he was placed on his stomach, Thor's red cape still draped around him. "Thank you, brother." But somehow Loki didn't seem to like this position either.

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**A/N: I'll try my best to keep up with updates, but we're getting closer to the end of what I've already written. Hopefully I won't be too busy the next few weeks so I can keep it up. Anyway, until next time!**


	5. The Sanguine Wood

**A/N: I just got a birthday gift, two t-shirts that are Loki/_Thor _themed, and I'm all stoked and felt like updating this fic! (although my birthday's not until next week, lol) I've been re-writing it and I'm not quite satisfied with it yet, but whatever, I'll be at it for days so I just said, the heck with it, I'm gonna upload it. ;D  
**

**This chapter is all talkies, but I hope you guys like it!**

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**- Chapter 5 -**

**_T__he Sanguine Wood_**

Before Thor had placed him on his stomach, it seemed like the best option. His back was on fire, although somewhat less so than before, so laying back-down was out of the question. But now... he shuddered. He didn't like this position either, it was too much like _out there_, and how _they_ placed him on that dreaded altar. Still, it was far more comfortable now, wrapped in his brother's soft cape and finally, _mercifully_ unbound.

Loki tried to stretch his arms as best he could, but winced and nearly cried out at the pain, so he refrained from continuing _that_ foolhardy excercise.

What he secretly wanted was for Thor to hold him again, but he chastised himself for the childish thinking. It had been years since Thor had held him that way, and it annoyed him to think he was so desperate for it again. He had worked so hard to get Thor to stop coddling him. Well. Now he couldn't remember why it had been all that bad in the first place.

Loki felt a bit like a rag doll, face-down and unmoving with his arms in the peculiar position of being carelessly laid out by his sides. It didn't feel natural. But the truth was, at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care overmuch. Thor was here and he was more comfortable than he'd been in gods know how long, so he stared intently at his big brother, who looked increasingly awkward.

"Loki?" Thor asked after some hesitation.

He let out a tired sigh. "Yes?"

"May I...lay next to you?"

The trickster exhaled a small chuckle through his nose. "Of course, brother." Then he furrowed his brow at his elder sibling as Thor lifted his cape a little to lay to his right. "And since when do _you_ ask permission to do anything?"

Thor chuckled, "True." He snuggled in next to him and Loki was suddenly much more glad of the comfort than he realized- and the heat. This cell was far colder than the altar-room. Thor tentatively avoided touching Loki's back, but somehow managed to drape his left arm over him as the thunderer pillowed his head on his other arm. "Are you comfortable?" he asked quietly.

The younger hummed a little, then sighed out, "It's nice..." Or as nice as it could be with the pain still pulsing through his every nerve. He felt Thor rearranging the cape a little, as if to make certain to cover every part of his little brother. Thor ducked his head under the cape and joined Loki as if the red cloth were a tent.

Loki closed his eyes, but didn't feel sleepy enough- or willing enough -to fall asleep just yet.

Several minutes of silence passed before Thor asked quietly, "Loki...what happened to your back?"

"It..." he didn't open his eyes, afraid they would give away too much. "Their... leader did it to me."

A pause, then: "But why?"

Loki considered lying, to protect Thor from the truth, but he didn't want his last moments with his brother to be tainted with lies. "It- It's for a ritual."

"A ritual?"

He nodded as best he could, but stopped when the pain made him wince. "He's trying to perform a spell that uses blood."

"Hm," said Thor contemplatively. "But...what does that have to do with you?"

Loki finally opened his eyes. The cape made everything look red, and his brother's face was strange in the sanguine light. Like blood... "He needs a sorcerer to complete the ritual."

Thor shook his head angrily, looking away. "Coward. Why does he not use his own blood?"

He smiled a little at Thor's anger, although Loki was surprised he even understood what he'd said so far. "The ritual _drains_ the blood of the sorcerer it's used upon... he can't use himself."

Thor looked at him, eyes growing wide. "But...Loki." His mouth opened, confusion spreading across his face. "You-"

"Yes, Thor," Loki finished for him. "It will kill me."

_... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._

No. No he wouldn't let it happen, he _couldn't_. The way Loki said it, so casually, sent a shiver through Thor. _Surely he hasn't given up?_ Thor thought. He had to get him out of here... somehow.

"Thor," said Loki quietly, slowly, "why haven't you escaped yet?" His normally bright green eyes were dark under the red of the cape. "I didn't think there was a prison in existence that could contain you." A smile crept onto his little brother's face, but still a sadness lingered.

"Not a physical prison, no," said Thor. "But this..." He carefully unwrapped himself from Loki and stood up, then walked toward the metal door. Loki watched him as he moved. "I cannot fight this-" Thor hit the barrier with his knuckles only to jerk his head toward Loki when he heard a yelp. "Loki?" Thor rushed over to him and bent over on his knees.

Loki's face was contorted in pain. "It was _you_?" said the trickster.

"What do you-"

"Before," interrupted Loki, still gritting his teeth. "It's the same pain from before, that was you?" He breathed through his teeth but soon settled down, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "So that's what he meant..."

"What who meant?" asked Thor as he too settled, sitting on his bottom.

Loki closed his eyes and sighed. "Gladerean. He's their leader." The eyes opened, but looked at nothing. "He said before that you were trying to escape, but I didn't understand at the time. Now I do."

"What do you mean? Are you saying _I_ caused you pain just now?"

"Yes," came the croaked answer.

Thor looked to the cell's door, then back at his brother, suddenly understanding. "The barrier- the spell, it is connected to you, somehow."

The look his little brother gave him made Thor smirk. Certainly he knew very little about sorcery, next to nothing, in fact, but he was not an idiot.

"Not just connected," said Loki. "_I_ cast the spell that trapped you here."

Thor stared. "_What_? How?"

"I don't know," said the trickster tiredly.

"You don't know?"

"No, not really. I assume it was when I was forced to read an incantation on a piece of wood-"

Thor stood up and walked briskly to the small piece of bark- now broken -that had been thrown in earlier, then brought it back to Loki. "This?" he asked and held the two pieces before his brother's eyes.

"Yes," said Loki in surprise, eyes wide. "How did-"

"They threw it in here earlier."

The two brothers stared at it for a moment, then were surprised when they heard a man's voice.

"It's a containment spell," said the voice.

Thor looked up and Loki painstakingly turned his head to look. "Who are you?" asked the elder prince, then stood to put himself between Loki and the newcomer.

"Feriel," answered the man. Even muffled through the odd mask all the men seemed to wear, Thor surmised that he was considerably older than them.

"Feriel?" asked Loki, perking up a little.

"Does my name sound familiar?"

Loki thought for a moment, then, "Yes..."

Feriel looked down a little, "My apologies."

"Apologies?" asked Thor.

"In the forest, before. I mistook your brother for... for..."

"For your son," Loki finished.

"You remember?" asked the man in astonishment. He moved a little closer, hands on the bars.

Loki sighed. "Not very much... But I do remember a man's face, and... even through my confusion I knew I was not your son."

Feriel nodded slowly. "Well. I apologize if I frightened you; you look very much like my son...did..." he trailed off, head bowing.

Thor was confused. _Of what are they speaking?_ He looked between his brother and the masked man, wondering if he should say something. Loki suddenly looked sad, but a familiar curiosity burned behind his eyes.

"May I ask," said Loki, hesitating a moment. The man lifted his head to the smaller god. "In the forest, what happened to me, to us?"

The masked man chuckled, "The Blackwings got us."

"Blackwings?" asked Thor, now curious as well.

"That's what some of the men call them. It's a misnomer; there's nothing with actual 'black wings' in the forest. The name comes from a particular type of bird that used to live here, before..."

"Before?" asked Loki, eyes bright. The mischief god was always so interested in everything; whether a simple story or history or fables.

Feriel waved a hand. "Nothing important, things that happened long ago."

The two princes waited, urging the man to go on. Thor sat down next to his brother, crossing his legs.

The masked man chuckled a little, but Thor wasn't sure why. Feriel stood up straight. "Very well, my princes, I will tell you the story of the Sanguine Wood."

It was odd, Thor thought, that this man- this brigand, criminal, whatever he was, was about to tell them a story as if he were one of their instructors back home. He guessed that the thought had occurred to the man as well.

"About..." Feriel paused, thinking. "About two-thousand years ago, long before you were born, this forest- whose name no one can recall -was bristling with life. Too much life, in fact, that even the Alfar couldn't make a home here. Both flora and fauna were vicious, deadly, crawling into every corner, every hidden nook and cranny between the boughs. And because no one was willing to brave the wood, many criminal spellcasters, fleeing from nearby realms, looking for shelter on a world known for harboring mages, began to settle here." He paused, "Because the penalty for magic-users is considered far worse than any simple punishment..."

"Do you speak of blood mages?" asked Loki as Thor unconsciously readjusted the cape around his little brother.

Feriel hesitated for a moment. "Then you know the story."

"Only that blood magic was outlawed during that era, and that many spellcasters who were unwilling to let go of that particular craft fled their homes, looking for shelter outside the Nine Realms."

The man nodded. "Yes, many did, although I'm uncertain by what means or where. But many came here knowing that this forest would hide them from scryers and seers; even your gatekeeper."

Thor looked to Loki, searching his face and realized he already knew.

"And so," he continued, "after only one year, the people of Asgard began to hear about this little sanctuary, and sent a small force to deal with the blood mages. About five-hundred strong warriors, and fifty or so of their own spellcasters fell upon the mages here, and a great battle ensued. But the blood mages gained more power the more blood was spilled, and the numbers of Asgard's warriors began to slowly dwindle as the day dragged on. The forest was not pleased with the disruption, the calm of its borders broken by a loud brash army.

"On the second day of fighting, only a handful of blood mages were left, and less than half of the Aesir soldiers. Then finally there was only one blood mage left..." Feriel leaned a little closer. "And this last one, she was the most powerful. With her final breath she weaved the most devastating spell ever seen, and has never been seen again, for the floor of the forest was drenched in blood, as if the sky had rained blood for a season." Thor swallowed. "The single mage managed to kill every single Aesir warrior, and herself, with the spell."

The two princes stared, dumbfounded. The image of the battle, of the blood-soaked ground playing before their eyes. Feriel stood motionless, waiting.

"So," began Thor, "do you mean to say... that this single mage managed to destroy a force of over two-hundred Aesir men?"

Feriel nodded slowly. "And after, when the blood seeped into the ground, when nothing was left but quiet and death... the forest was changed. Now only the heartiest- and strangest -plants can grow here, and no animals dare enter its borders. The whispers of the battle remained, and... something else."

"What?" asked Thor curiously.

The man hesitated, perhaps too long, his next words seemed to be of a different tone altogether, as if he had changed his mind about something. "The Blackwings," he said flatly. "Birds with dark feathers, black as pitch. It was said that they lived here for some time before even _they _were cast out by the forest. Those that entered here believed that the hallucinations were caused by the birds, since in their stupor people would see the birds and believe them evil monsters come to devour them." Feriel chuckled. "Fools. There's nothing in this forest, not anymore."

"But there is," said Thor, "I heard-"

"You heard yourself," said the man. "Your own footsteps, your own breathing. The forest repeats back whatever noise you make."

Loki cleared his throat and asked, "But the hallucinations- what causes them?"

"Just a spore," said Feriel, almost boredly. "Many like to imagine something more sinister, some evil dark sorcery at work- and perhaps that is what caused it originally. But it is only a plant."

"A plant?" asked Thor

"The trees," said Feriel. "Most are dead now, but even still they produce leaves and... the spore. It causes madness if one is exposed for very long."

"Is that why you wear masks?" asked Loki.

He nodded. "Yes, prince, our masks protect us. If we remove them- or have them removed," Feriel paused. "Well, as you saw..."

Thor spoke up, "Why was I not affected? I was in the forest, but I encountered nothing like these hallucinations you speak of."

Feriel tilted his head. "Did you sleep when the sun went down?"

Thor didn't remember going to sleep, but he _did_ wake up... but how had that happened? He nodded, a little confused.

"Then," said the masked man. "You would not be affected. The trees are nocturnal, they only release spores at night. For whatever reason, those asleep are never affected."

Loki appeared to be thinking, brows lightly furrowed. "It is a wonderful tale," said the mischief god. "And, I am sure someone might wish to add the story of the Sanguine Wood to Asgard's libraries, but..."

"Yes, prince?"

"...But, if everyone in the battle was killed... who was alive to tell the tale?"

Feriel hesitated only for a moment. "You are clever, my prince. But that is a part of the mystery of this tale. No one knows who told the story. Many suspect that there was at least one survivor; perhaps a soldier, or a servant of a soldier- or perhaps," he paused, "even the last blood mage herself. No one knows," he shrugged.

"Hm," hummed Thor, but Loki didn't look satisfied. Mysteries always intrigued the younger god; he always wanted to solve the riddle, peek at the answers in the back, dig into dusty tomes until he could refute or reaffirm a story's origin. What an exhausting way to live, Thor thought.

Suddenly a woman's voice entered the cell, "The blood mage could not have lived."

All three men looked to the source, and Thor stood when he recognized the maiden from before, Malcinia.

"My lady," said Feriel, bowing his head once. "I did not see you there."

She walked forward, then nodded to the men. "My apologies, I did not mean to intrude. But the Tale of the Sanguine Wood is one of my favorites."

"And," asked Loki from the ground, "what do you think happened?"

Thor would have chastised Loki for his bad manners, for not allowing his elder brother to at least introduce him to the lady, but given the circumstances, he couldn't bring himself to care much. And anyway, what kind of lady would associate herself with these people? Even if her father was one of them?

"For my part," Malcinia said, "I believe that the blood mage would not have survived; a blood spell that powerful would surely have destroyed even the caster."

"Oh?" asked Loki, a slight note of challenge in the word, as if to say, _'And what might _you_ know of blood magic?'_

"I know nothing of the art myself," said the maiden as though reading his thoughts, "but from what father says..." her words drifted.

"Of course, my lady," said Feriel in understanding.

Thor saw Loki fidgeting at the corner of his eye. Clearly all this talk- _casual_ talk -of blood magic was unnerving him. In fact, how could either of them speak so calmly with their captors, as if they weren't about to kill one of them?

So the older prince walked to the bars, but refrained from going too far lest he hurt his brother. "Lady Malcinia," began Thor, "is it true that your father intents to kill my brother?" He almost winced at his own words, to be so blunt, but somehow it seemed appropriate, to see how the maiden would react. Thor purposely avoided looking at Loki.

"I..." she lowered her head, then turned to look at Feriel. "Feriel," she motioned for him to leave, and without question the masked man nodded, then nodded to the princes, then walked away. "I am sorry that you have been caught up in this," she spoke to Thor, "but there is no other way. My father-"

"Your father," Thor interrupted, "is a murderer if he goes through with this." He wanted to say more, but he needed the words to sink in, to make an impact. Surely this young maiden could not condone the death of an innocent? He absently wondered when he had become the diplomatic one. How was Loki looking at him now? With pride or surprise, or perhaps with incredulity? He never did have very much faith in Thor's words.

But if Loki was too injured and tired to use his silver words, then Thor would shine his own lumps of lead and hope no one noticed their lackluster aspect.

The woman stared at him, determination etched in her pale skin. But even so, something shone through, perhaps doubt? Thor couldn't tell; reading people was Loki's domain as well.

She dropped her gaze, shoulders slumping minutely.

* * *

**A/N: ****I think this chapter explained some stuff, h**ope you guys enjoyed! And... hope it wasn't confusing or something, lol. 


	6. Beginning

**A/N: Very sorry for the late update, but better late than never, as they say. ;)**

**There's some meanie stuff this chapter, not much else. (I think that's what I'll start calling stuff that's not _quite_ torture, but still not very nice, ehehe.)**

* * *

**- Chapter 6 - **

**_Beginning_**

The maiden's reaction was more than Loki could hope for. Was it possible even Thor, of all people, might convince her? And would she be able to convince her father to end this dark ritual? He didn't dare hope.

And Thor... Loki couldn't help the warmth that grew in his aching chest at his brother's words, how, even when deprived of his chosen weapon- to use brute force -his brother would fight in any way he could, even venturing into untested waters.

Malcinia's gaze drifted to Loki and he stiffened, suddenly surprised by the attention. Her eyes were conflicted, filled with obvious doubt, questions brewing.

Loki shifted under the cape-made-blanket and looked to Thor, unwilling to match the woman's piercing gaze. The first prince stood with back ramrod straight as if to challenge the woman with his very presence.

For a long moment nothing happened, then, tearing her eyes away from the two, Malcinia muttered an 'I am sorry' and walked away briskly, as though she were suddenly needed elsewhere.

Thor looked as if he were about to call out to her, but instead sighed as his stiff frame sagged a little. He ran a weary hand through his hair.

"I am sorry, brother," the thunderer spoke.

"I know," returned the trickster softly. What words were there to say? Clearly the woman had lived far too long with her mad father, accepting whatever insane plans he conjured up, no matter how she felt about them.

Thor walked to Loki's side and sat down, a defeated look on his face.

"I do not know what to do... If I could just fight them- If I could-" He shook his head, at a loss for words. The thunderer looked tired, sorrow etched into his features, and Loki wondered if he was imagining the moistness in his brother's eyes.

"I know," Loki said again, barely a whisper.

.

Thor had once again joined Loki under his red cape, snuggling close. They had said nothing for some time, the weight of the circumstances sinking in further than either of them wished.

In the crimson light of the cape, Loki could see his brother's face occasionally twist as a new thought passed through his head. It was strange, to watch the thunderer work so hard at something he rarely attempted- to _think_. Plan. Do _something._ Loki certainly couldn't fault him for trying, he had been doing the same thing the last hour.

"Loki," said Thor suddenly, startling him from his thoughts. The trickster said nothing, but Thor continued anyway. "You mustn't give up, I'll- we'll think of something. I just don't-"

"Brother," Loki said softly. "I..." Thor tilted his head a little, eyes curious and gentle. "I'm sorry."

The blonde's eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

The corner of Loki's mouth quirked. "For bringing you to this planet, for not... fighting harder, for not being the brother you prefer-"

"Loki!" Thor's fingers were suddenly on Loki's mouth, stopping him. "This- _none_ of this is your fault, brother. And I followed you here, after all." He removed his hand and Loki felt tears itching the back of his eyes. "And..." Thor leaned in closer, "you are the best brother any could hope for- _my_ brother; never say that again." His voice was soft, strange to Loki's ears, so accustomed to the loud boom that typically followed the older's words.

And suddenly large arms were around him, holding him. Thor sat up and pulled him close against his chest. Loki's back stung a little at the contact but he didn't care, he hugged back and gripped as tightly as he could.

"Brother," Loki's voice was muffled against the chest. "Brother... I love you."

Thor ran a hand through the dark hair, "I love you, too." He pulled back a little to see Loki's face as he continued stroking his hair. "We'll get out of this, _we will_, as we always have. Don't give up, little brother. Never."

Loki nodded as best he could, taking those words to heart. _Don't give up._ He didn't want to, with everything in him, he _couldn't_. They would both get out of this; Thor had said it. And if Loki knew _anything_, it was that Thor _always_ got his way. Why should this time be any different?

Lost in their own thoughts, both jumped when the harsh metal of the door screeched open. Gladerean and two of the masked men stood outside the cell.

"Well," Gladerean said, hands clasping in front of him, "I'm glad the two of you could say goodbye, but it's time."

Loki shook his head fervently and clung to Thor. Some very distant part of his mind now wondered why they had put him in here in the first place- how did they plan on retrieving him? Even without weapons Thor was more than capable of fighting a dozen men, these few would be nothing to him- and there were no words in all the Nine Realms that would force him to give up his little brother. So what did that leave? Ah yes,_ magic_. One of the few things that could subdue the thunder god.

Said thunder god was currently clutching so tightly to Loki he could feel the pain radiating up and down his spine- but he couldn't bring himself to even protest. The hold was his security, what awaited him out there? Torture and death-? No. He could endure a little pain to be so close to his brother.

A strange sound reverberated through Loki's head and he realized Thor was _growling_ at the men. "Come and claim him," said the god of thunder, "if you dare," he finished through clenched teeth.

Gladerean sighed loudly, shoulders sagging. "I had a feeling you would be uncooperative. No matter." He pulled something out of his robe's pocket, then held it up for both brothers to see. "Do you know what this is?" he then asked, although it seemed less a question and more a taunt. He didn't wait for an answer. "No, of course you don't."

To Loki, it looked like a square piece of glass, dulled around the edges, about the size of a woman's palm. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled when he saw the string of carefully painted bloody runes crisscrossing the center from each corner of the clear piece.

"I must say," continued Gladerean, "I'm very curious to see how this works on you, but I suppose we're about to find out." Then suddenly he let go of the glass, and it shattered on the hard cave's floor.

Immediately Thor's grip on Loki released as the thunderer fell back, boneless, eyes closed.

"Thor!" Loki screamed, still holding on tightly, trying to awaken him. "Brother!"

"Quickly!" he heard Gladerean order. "I don't know how long it'll last on him. Get him! Now!"

Loki ignored the sorcerer, instead focusing on his fallen brother. "What have you done to him!" he screamed, frantically shaking Thor. Suddenly men's arms were pulling him away, or at least trying, but Loki had a death-grip on his brother, determined to find out what was wrong.

"Grab him, you fools!" cried Gladerean.

The mischief god growled as his body and legs were lifted, trying to pull him away from his brother.

"_Now!_" screeched the elder sorcerer.

Loki screamed angrily when Thor was wrenched away from him, the still form retreating, as well as the cell, as he was carried out. "No!" he screamed. "What have you done?! _What have you done to him?!_" Still in the two men's arms, Loki turned his head to the sorcerer, murder in his eyes, teeth clenched so hard he thought he would break his jaw.

The cell door closed, and Gladerean ignored the trickster in favor of eyeing the older Asgardian. Loki followed his eyes, then felt relief overwhelm him and a sharp breath escape when Thor began to stir.

"See?" said Gladerean. "Nothing to worry about. He's fine," he waved a hand in Thor's direction.

The trickster stared through the bars of the cell, eyes wide. "Thor?" The older god suddenly jerked up on his feet, crouched low as if ready for a fight. The stance was animalistic, filled with rage.

He finally locked eyes with Loki, "Brother-?"

But the god of mischief was already being dragged away, still being carried by the two men as he struggled futilely. "Thor!" he screamed at the quickly fading form, stony walls invading his vision.

"Loki!" screamed the voice, bouncing down the crudely cut corridor. "_Brother!_" Then there was a loud furious cry that echoed off the walls. Loki felt the two men holding him stiffen.

"Thor..." he said quietly.

.

The altar room was much the same as before, except Loki had instead been chained to the altar itself this time, and he was face-up. The metal shackles were heavy and embedded into the stone, unmovable. While Loki was glad of no longer being bound in such an uncomfortable position, this one was not much better since his back grated against the cold, rocky surface if he moved even a fraction- and it still burned besides.

It was strange, the wounds on his back should have healed at least a little by now, but the cuts felt fresh and still bled. At least his arrow-wound had almost completely healed; a splotch of reddened skin all that was left.

Gladerean's back had been turned to Loki almost the entire time since he had returned, as the old sorcerer stood hunched over some old tome on the wooden table nearby.

Loki cleared his throat, curiosity rising about the spell that had rendered Thor unconscious. The old man didn't seem very secretive before about the spells, as long as they didn't interfere with his work here.

"Sir?" Loki asked, voice raised only slightly as to not upset the man. Gladerean _hummed_ a response, apparently listening. "May I... ask what spell you used on my brother?"

The man chuckled, still not turning around. "Blood magic, my prince. One of the few spells that won't kill the recipient; you should be grateful."

_Grateful_. Loki wanted to scoff but the fact that he _was_ grateful prevented him from doing so. "Oh?" Many mages liked extolling their skill in spellcraft, especially to others who might actually understand.

Gladerean shook his head a little, flipping a page in his book. "I was quite surprised, actually. That spell usually renders the person unconscious for at least thirty minutes, if not longer; that your brother awoke after barely twenty seconds, well..." he trailed off, then turned around suddenly. Loki forced himself to look the man in the eye. "I suppose Nefre hitting him with that arrow turned out quite well- I'm sure none of my men would have liked having to cut a man like your brother, given that he might have awakened at any moment." His chest moved with a silent chuckle, as if any of this were actually humorous, then turned back to his book.

_Blood magic_, Loki thought. Clearly it had many useful applications, even if it could easily be used for nefarious purposes- but wasn't that true of all magics? No doubt any spell would be dangerous in the hands of this man. Of course, if death was the result of most spells cast, then... Loki stared at the ceiling. No. It wasn't worth it; his father had been right to forbid the practice.

Looking back toward the table, Loki started when Gladerean was no longer hunched over his book. When the mad sorcerer suddenly appeared on Loki's other side, he jumped, and would have probably fell off the table had he not been chained down.

In one hand Gladerean held a small brown bowl as he stood next to the mischief god.

A long silence passed as the man leaned on his other arm on the altar as if waiting for something. He looked at Loki, then elsewhere, then back at Loki. _Definitely_ waiting for something.

Loki raised both eyebrows, "Yes?" he tried, feeling awkward.

"Oh, I'm just waiting for some of my men, the fools," he grumbled.

_Why would he need them? _Loki wondered. It wasn't as if he was going anywhere.

When two of the masked men entered, Gladerean sighed, "Finally, over here. Yes, yes, here," he pointed, "and here." The sorcerer moved, nearer Loki's head, as one man stood opposite him, on the other side of Loki, and the other beside him. "Now," he continued, looking to Loki. "You will drink _this_," he held up the bowl, "and my men will help you along."

Loki's eyes widened. _For the spell?_ He jerked his head to the two men, eyeing them in turn. "What-" But before Loki could finish, the man closest to his head reached out and shoved something cold and metal into his mouth, holding his jaws open. He tried to speak further, but only incoherent mumbles escaped. The other man was apparently there to hold him down, should he struggle.

And when his head was tilted forward, and the foul-smelling bowl neared his face, Loki _did_ start to struggle. A big part of him knew that refusing would get him nowhere, but the savage and unexpected actions of the men, and the metal having been unceremoniously shoved into his mouth made Loki panic. The man holding his chest down wasn't helping either, and neither was the searing pain that shot through his body as the cuts on his back scraped against the stone.

"Open wide, prince," said Gladerean in a half-mocking tone.

Loki tried to shake his head, _get away!_ But a hand in his hair kept him from moving his head very much, not to mention the points of whatever was in his mouth were now digging into his teeth and gums.

The bowl was suddenly touching his lips, being tipped forward. The contents were indeed liquid, and such a dark purple it might have been black.

His eyes widened as the strange liquid spilled into his mouth.

"Swallow, Loki, if you do not wish to drown." For a moment Loki wondered if drowning might not be such a poor idea- but his instincts immediately kicked in when he began to choke, and he swallowed. It tasted terrible, but that was the least of his concerns when more was poured in. He sputtered and gagged, but swallowed as best he could until the contents were drained.

When he was abruptly released by all the men, Loki had the urge to vomit. He coughed fiercely and began to heave, wrists chafing against the metal biting into them.

"No, no, prince," said Gladerean, a hand up. "Expel that and we'll have to do this again until you keep it down. I don't think you fancy doing that a second time, hm?"

Tears spilled out of Loki's eyes as he struggled to both breathe and not gag at the foreign and unfamiliar substance sitting in his stomach. Whatever reagents he had ingested, they were unfamiliar, and he tried his absolute best to not consider what he might have just drank for fear of vomiting at the mere thought. For the same reasons, he decided not to ask either, his curiosity not great enough to overcome the fear of repeating that display.

Almost immediately after having let Loki go, the two masked men left the room, as though in a hurry to leave. The trickster barely noticed them, too concerned about what would come next.

What _was_ next? Would the ritual finally begin? Or perhaps it already had?

_Knife..._ The dagger Gladerean had used to cut into Loki's back was in the sorcerer's hand suddenly, coming closer. _So close._ He cringed back, but realizing the uselessness of the act, blurted out the first words that came to mind, "Your wife."

The man stopped, just beside the altar. "What?" he asked, confused with a hint of anger lurking.

Loki tore his eyes from the dagger and looked to Gladerean's hard eyes. "Your- your wife... how did she die?"

The fingers around the dagger tightened, but the face remained the same. "Why do you ask about her?" he spoke through his teeth. "You have no right-"

"Perhaps not," Loki interrupted. "But if I'm about to die for her sake, could it really hurt to tell me a little about her?"

The man's face softened minutely, as though a distant memory had invaded his thoughts, causing his eyes to drift slightly. "No," he said. "No it couldn't." The fingers around the dagger relaxed as he dropped his head a little. "But those memories will no longer be needed soon; she'll be here... with me- with us..."

"Your daughter," said Loki, pressing forward.

Gladerean's eyes met Loki's. "Yes," he said, fondly. "She is my world."

"And... have you asked her if she approves of this?"

Suddenly, the sorcerer's eyes flashed stepping closer. Not expecting the reaction, Loki flinched back. "You know nothing of her! She _trusts _me, _loves_ me! I _will_ bring her mother back, and- and she'll understand..." His face fell and he stepped back a little, dagger limply grazing the side of the altar.

"And," Loki began again, _don't give up, don't give up- _"what would your _wife_ say to what you're doing?"

Gladerean froze, eyes wide. For a moment he did nothing, nothing but stare at the air before him. Then he shook his head profusely. "No," he said adamantly. "_No_."

"You said she died because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time; if that's true, she wasn't a part of the war, was she?"

The man continued to shake his head, shifting his weight, moving about, dagger swinging occasionally with his restless arms. He pointed at Loki suddenly, eyes hard once again, "_You_ don't get to ask about her, _you don't get to ask!_"

Perhaps he might push him too far- perhaps he would kill Loki here and now, without a ritual. It wasn't exactly the best outcome, but given the alternative... "_I _have _every_ right to ask- to know!" yelled Loki back, surprised by his own forcefulness. _Here and now, if this doesn't work, nothing will._ "My death will bring her back? Fine, I accept that. But then _you_ _owe me_. Tell me about her._ Would she approve?_"

Silence.

The flicker of candles stirred the shadows.

Gladerean was no longer moving, eyes closed, dagger still clenched tightly.

Loki didn't dare breathe for fear of shattering the gathered stillness. Then slowly, _carefully_ the man turned to him fully, eyes determined. _Is that good or bad?_ But when Gladerean spoke he had his answer, "I am sorry, Prince Loki... I have no choice..."

The dagger was already raised, poised over Loki's chest. _No... so close, I was so close! I can't give in!_

"No wait-" Loki blurted out, not thinking. The sharp tip was lowering, he tried to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. "Stop!" The words wouldn't come, _why won't they come?!_ His tongue was suddenly too heavy, like the weight of the realms were laden on it. He whimpered and grit his teeth, fear ripping at his insides, he clenched his eyes shut-

But... only the cold tip of the dagger grazed him, barely, and only for a moment, then suddenly it was gone. A loud crackling and a sound like exploding fire filled the room. Loki opened his eyes wide, seeing the edge of a fiery explosion where once Gladerean stood.

His eyes continued staring wildly as he leaned up as best he could to see what had happened. And there, at the door nearest his feet, was Malcinia, arms raised.

"M-my lady?" Loki stuttered out without thinking.

Breathing heavily, the maiden walked forward, tears welling up in her eyes. "Father..." she whispered through gritted teeth.

Loki strained to stay upright, his back protesting furiously. Gladerean lay on the floor, smoke wisping from the wound in his side. Malcinia dropped to her knees beside him, palms held up as if they had blood on them. _And perhaps she is right_, Loki absently thought. But it suddenly clicked, _she saved me, she _saved _me..._

The girl sobbed, not touching her father, only staring with lowered head, tears falling.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When the iron gate opened, Thor immediately jerked to his feet, stance ready. Loki wouldn't give up so neither will he-

"My lord," said the man at the cell's door, his voice low, almost a whisper. He waved a hand for Thor to come. "I am releasing you, come, quickly." Thor eyed him suspiciously. The masked figure looked up and down the corridor in haste, clearly distressed. When Thor didn't move, he looked back to the cell. "Please, my prince! This is no trick! The Lady Malcinia frees your brother now, we will not stand for this crime. Now come!"

_Could it be? _Thor recognized the man's voice from before, it was Feriel, the storyteller with a son whose likeness favored Loki. Despite Thor's suspicions, if this was true, he couldn't let the opportunity pass. So he rushed toward the man, then stopped before crossing the point where the barrier had been.

"What of the spell?" the thunderer asked cautiously.

The man looked up and down the corridor again, keeping a waiting arm up to welcome the prince out. "Expelled," he said. "The lady is a sorceress as well, apparently. She assures me the barrier has been lowered."

_So_, Thor thought, _my words _did_ reach her, after all._ But there was no time to ponder on it, so he, very slowly- more out of fear for potentially harming Loki -reached through the cell's open door.

_Yes!_ Smiling, he stepped up beside Feriel. "Thank you, good sir. Asgard will see you well for your helping her princes."

The man nodded and gestured down the corridor, before walking briskly toward a door at its end, following closely by the elder prince.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The mischief god could scarcely believe it when his shackles were removed and he was freed of the altar by the young maiden. Tears still fell from her face, but she appeared in a great hurry otherwise. _So, she expects her father's men to intervene_. There was no time to lose, then.

Eager to be with his brother, Loki gladly took the hand she offered to him. "Come," she said, voice low. "I will take you to your brother, Feriel and I-"

But Loki had stopped, his hand still in hers, halting her movement. _What-?_ He blinked rapidly, a strange feeling stirring in his chest. It took him a moment to realize _where_ it was originating from.

"My prince?" said the girl, brow furrowed. "What is-?" Her gaze slowly, purposefully, drifted toward her hand still clutching his.

Loki stared, he _stared_ because everything about this maiden was wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong._ He tried to let go of her hand but she held on tightly, her fingers bruising. Her eyes were staring at his now, wide, then suddenly, like a nightmare crept up into his bed in the dead of night out of the shadows, a large wicked grin slowly stretched across her face.

"Now what's this?" she said, voice razor-sharp, teeth cutting and blinding. "I underestimated you, little prince. Oh yes, I did."

Loki was frozen- the whole _world_ was frozen. Only one thing moved, his thoughts, and all they could muster was: _What is she?_

* * *

**A/N: Ohohoo... so whaddya guys think? ;D Obviously the story isn't over yet, despite Gladerean being out of the picture. If this were a tv show, it would be the halfway point finale for a season (like the one before the winter holidays- at least for us in the States), and if this were a play, we'd be at the end of Act I (but only if there were two acts XD). I don't know why I'm comparing it to those things, but oh well, I think you guys get it.**

***Warning for shameless self-promotion to follow* I just posted a new story. Hurt/comfort, post-Avengers, if you wanna check it out. ****Or just read my profile for more details.** I'll be uploading the second chapter tomorrow because the first is short. 


	7. Masks

**A/N: Gosh, I had a hard time with this chapter for some reason- not quite satisfied with it, but I hope you guys like it well enough. I tend to be my own worst critic. ****;)**

**But anyway, new chapter! Alas, there's probably only going to be two or three more chapters left, but I'm not sure. Something in that range, I think. Thank you to all my reviewers, favers, and followers! You guys make me want to keep going with my stories. :3**

* * *

**- Chapter 7 - **

**_Masks_**

The woman _tsked_ at him, smile reduced to a tight-lipped grin- a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

"And here I thought you were little more than daddy's little mage. To think, a sorcerer, yourself."

Loki leaned back, still trying to pry his fingers from her oddly overpowering grip. He stared at her with wide eyes, trying to figure out just _what _she was. As her words sunk in, he frowned slightly.

"Oh yes, there's a difference. Or didn't you know?" She tilted her head, still smiling. "The words 'sorcerer' and 'mage' are often used interchangeably, but they're different, quite different."

Whatever this woman was, she was no mere maiden... She was- Loki couldn't figure it out, she was just _off_. _Not right._ Her gaze never wavered from his, her face half-mad with barely contained glee at his struggling. _Should I fight her?_ His first instinct was that he couldn't hurt a woman, but suddenly the thought of her being anything close to one seemed ludicrous.

"What... _are you_?" Loki whispered through gritted teeth, leaning away from her with his feet dug in like he used to do when Thor would hold his wrist teasingly when they were younger. And the fact that he was now comparing her to _Thor's _strength sent a shiver up his spine. She barely leaned back to compensate for his weight, which was also worrying.

She suddenly let go and he was unable to stop himself before his momentum cracked his head on the side of the altar. He slumped to the floor, wincing and holding his head. It wasn't enough to render him unconscious, but it still hurt.

Next she rushed forward, then squatted next to him in a decidedly un-lady like fashion as he jerked back, startled. "_What am I?_" she said very slowly, almost mockingly, still staring at him with a smirk. She seemed about to answer until she jerked her head around, toward the door, as if something had appeared there. "Oh, of course," she said with some annoyance as she stood, walking away.

Leaning against the side of the altar, Loki heard unfamiliar words fill the air- she was casting an incantation of sorts, although it was in no tongue he recognized. He would have pondered how that was even possible, why the All-tongue wasn't translating, if it was at all relevant at this moment. Her words were gutteral, deep, strange sounding to his ears, and even more so to come out of a decidedly feminine figure.

Then, without delay, a wall of stone slowly crept over the door, filling in the space with a smooth dark grey barrier. A sound on the other side of the room told Loki that the only other door in the room had also been filled. He glanced at it then back at her, worry growing. _Trapped. Thor can't get to me even if he managed to escape._

_... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._

Thor and Feriel saw the stone barrier form over the doorway just in time to see the slight candle-lit flicker of the room beyond disappear.

"No!" Thor screamed at it as they approached. "What is this?!" Thor turned on his masked companion.

Feriel shook his head in confusion, "I don't know, I don't know! Lady Malcinia was meant to retrieve your brother- I don't know what could have happened..."

Thor clenched his teeth, _so close!_ "I should think it obvious," said Thor angrily. "Your sorcerer master discovered your plan and trapped himself and my brother inside until... until..." Thor lowered his head. _No. I won't let that happen-_ His body reacted almost instinctually, without thought, his shoulder crashing into the newly formed wall.

Feriel jumped a little at the prince's sudden outburst.

_I will _not_ abandon him! _Thor crashed into the wall again, more savagely, then again, and again. He kicked at it next, then again with his shoulder. To his surprise, on the next hit, small pieces of the stone wall began to crumble.

Thor smiled darkly.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"How tedious!" Malcinia hissed in mock concern at the slight shaking of the door.

Loki stared at it, but knew immediately what the cause was. _Thor_. Thor was on the other side. No one else would be so blunt as to attack a seemingly solid wall in his way. _Feriel must have released him_, he thought. He vaguely remembered Malcinia's aborted sentence earlier about she and Feriel... something. _What's her purpose here? Why trap us in here? Is Feriel a part of her plans, or is he an unknowing participant?_

The trickster flinched when he realized she was staring at him again with sinister wide eyes. She was standing calmly, too quietly with back straight, entire frame toward him. But when her eyes began to look him up and down scrutinizingly, he wanted to squirm. _What does she want?_

"A son of Odin," she said thoughtfully, tilting her chin up, eyes fixed on him. "I never would have considered..." Her words didn't seem directed at him. Suddenly her gaze unnerved him more than ever, something dangerously hungry entering her eyes.

_Damn this_. Loki jerked to his feet- if not exactly with his usual grace -and she watched him with wide-eyed amusement, something like curiosity, like watching a specimen do something unexpected. He didn't exactly want to try it, but if he didn't... Well, what else was there to do? Attempting to fight her physically seemed the only option. _But her strength..._ The lack of information about his opponent gnawed at his insides, but there wasn't much choice. He couldn't just _sit there_ and wait to see what she did. _Act. Don't give up,_ the words echoed in his mind.

He walked toward her, still uncomfortable with the idea of attacking a woman. But it wasn't as if he'd never seen a woman fight before, shieldmaidens were not too uncommon, but _he_ had never attacked a woman before. And anyway, whatever this being before him was, it certainly wasn't anything close to female... or even _male_ for that matter- it just felt like... a _thing_.

She tilted her head to the side, watching him approach. A wide-toothed grin spread across her face, and before he was even halfway to her, she began another incantation. _No!_ He tried to run, to reach her before she cast another spell, but a sudden burning spread across his back, starting from the base of his neck. Loki immediately stumbled to the floor on his knees, hissing at the pain.

"No, _no_," she said in a sing-song tone. She said a few more words of the spell, voice rising. "That is _old magic_, Loki Odinson. _Primordial._"

The burning spread across his body, down his legs, his arms, then finally into his head. He bent over, prostrate, twitching, the coolness of the stone floor on his face welcome but not helping. He wanted to say something, scream at her, _what is this?!_ Old magic... he had heard of it, but only in the oldest texts in the furthest parts of the library where he wasn't supposed to go.

"That fool," she continued, "my _father_, had barely a concept of what he was doing. Mixing and matching blood magic with something he could never understand. Carving those runes on you, he had _no idea_ what he was doing." He could almost _hear _her smile. "But _I do_." She spoke a few more words of the incantation, they exploded in Loki's mind like waves crashing on a shore, violently scraping against his consciousness.

"_What_-" he croaked out, shaking with every word he managed, "What..._is_..._this_?" Another wave of pain overtook him and he fell to his side, screaming, curling into himself.

Her feet appeared before his darkening eyes. "Something for the both of us, Loki Odinson. You'll find out soon enough," she smirked.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The wall had barely even cracked even after dozens of hits from Thor. He wasn't tiring, but what use was there in attacking such an impenetrable wall? Would it take only time, or was there any use to his actions at all?

Feriel stood out of his way, giving the prince space. There wasn't much he could do, Thor knew, since the doorway was too small to accommodate _two_ men trying to break it down.

Footsteps suddenly echoed down the corridor, coming close. Two men, Thor assumed.

"Feriel!" yelled a masked man with a grey robe when he appeared around the corner. The other joined him soon after, his robe was a light brown. The two men approached, weapons raised.

"Stay back," warned Feriel. "The princes are leaving this place; Gladerean has no right to do this."

The two men stopped and looked to each other, then at Thor and Feriel. "That doesn't matter," said the grey-clad one. "We must do as we are commanded; we have no choice!" The other only stared.

"I know," sighed Feriel.

Thor looked to him, surprised. _Is he giving up?_

"But," continued his new ally, "I still cannot stand by while Prince Loki dies. It is not right."

"Not _right_?" spoke the brown-robed one. "What's right no longer matters. We do what he says, we are _bound to him_."

"We can't break the spell," said the other, coming closer with his weapon still raised. "Our blood is bound to his blood- there's nothing we can do!" he was close enough to Thor to swing his ax, but Thor easily dodged it and pushed him back, their words filling his ears.

_What's happened to these men?_ Thor wondered. He had assumed they were mercenaries, hired men, but now... Had Gladerean somehow used his wicked magic to force them into servitude? Suddenly, hurting them in retaliation for taking Loki seemed less appealing.

The man stumbled back a few steps but recovered quickly and lunged at Thor once more. The prince easily ducked under a swing of the crude ax and grabbed it with one hand, then pulled off the man's mask and punched him hard enough to knock him out. The brown-robed one watched the fight with obvious trepidation. He frantically looked back the way he came, then to Thor, then to Feriel, then his companion on the floor, then to Thor again. His sword shook in his tight grip. Next, he released the sword with raised hands, then without delay scrambled back down the corridor and out of sight.

"He'll get the others," said Feriel.

Thor nodded then stepped forward and grabbed the discarded sword, then tested it with a few swings through the air. "And," said Thor, "do you think any of them would fare much better than him?" He tilted his head toward the unconscious man. "I mean no offense," he added with a hint of humor.

Feriel didn't seem to take any. "Of course not, my lord. Still, they will prove a distraction from your... efforts," he nodded to the sealed door.

The thunderer sighed. He turned to the elder man. "Feriel, what did they mean?" He had his own theory, but he needed it confirmed if he were going to avoid killing any of the men. Thor returned to the wall and braced himself to continue his assault on it.

Feriel hesitated and remained quiet while Thor fell upon the stone wall time and again. On the third hit the masked man spoke, "We are bound to him... by blood." The prince glanced at him but didn't stop. "We have all made mistakes in the past. One by one Gladerean found us, promised us he would give us a new life, a new purpose. Most of us saw a great sorcerer ready to aid us, give us a second chance." He lowered his head.

"What did you see?" Thor breathed out between hits.

"My son," he returned plainly. Thor frowned at him. "I was a fool then- well, still a fool -but now I know better." He sighed. "I thought much as he does now: that my dead son could be brought back with some form of magic. I was wrong."

"What do you mean?" asked Thor.

"My son is gone," said the man sadly. "Even were it possible, and if Gladerean had the ability, I know now that bringing him back is wrong." Thor couldn't help but stop and listen, eyes cast downward. "He meant more than all the realms to me, but he had his time- and so did I. He is gone."

Thor didn't know what to do, so he nodded once in respect of the man's realization. But even still, he was curious. What would cause a man to give up on something like that? Hope of seeing his child again?

Feriel looked to Thor, "You wonder why I changed my mind, yes?" The thunderer was taken aback but he looked to the man with the answer written on his face. "My master- Gladerean." Thor furrowed his brow as he continued to kick at the door with his feet. "He's lost himself to his grief, to his..." He looked away. "To his sorrow. His madness. I never want to be like him- I never want to lose myself to an impossible hope."

The prince nodded in understanding as a particularly vicious kick caused a small crack to form from the right edge of the door towards its center. A small smile crept onto his face, and Thor imagined a similar smile on Feriel's face when their eyes met.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Loki was panting, struggling on the floor against his own body. The woman- _no, not a woman_ -walked slowly, mockingly around him with delicate, deliberate steps. Occasionally she would recite words from whatever foreign tongue she used to cast this spell- whatever it was.

He suddenly felt something lurch inside his body, his stomach, a different pain.

She stopped somewhere near his head, then she crouched down, leaning toward him. "I had forgotten," she said lightly. "The root of the elifiniar tree... did he make you drink it? No doubt he mixed other reagents," she added in thought.

Without warning she grabbed his hair and lifted his head. "Well," she began, the other hand lifting his chin, "we can't let that interfere." Before Loki could even fathom what was going on the hand on his chin was suddenly in his mouth, fingers pushed to the back of his throat. Immediately he gagged and coughed, then heaved violently as the dark liquid pushed itself back up and out of his body.

Malcinia didn't even react when Loki vomited passed her hand, then onto her yellow dress. To his surprise she smiled then laughed outright, watching him with the same wide eyes as before. "How amusing!" she cried in glee. He continued coughing and watching her through his tears, trying his best to get it all out. Although being forced to expel anything from his stomach was unpleasant, he was glad the foreign substance was out of him- who knew what it would have done to him? Still, Malcinia's reaction was... not normal, to say the least.

She continued smiling and holding his head up, her piercing eyes watching him with the same amused curiosity she held ever since he sensed... whatever he sensed, about her. Some of the dark purple liquid had splattered her face and Loki winced involuntarily. Did she even know? Did she care?

She released him without warning and stood up, as though something else important had suddenly occurred to her. "Your brother is persistent, what a nuisance. I think I'll kill him when we're finished here."

A dark fear sunk into the pit of Loki's now empty stomach. Normally, any threat against Thor was something to laugh at, but for reasons he couldn't understand, he thought _she could do it_.

Three words of incantation were all but whispered from her mouth and Loki clenched his teeth as something like lightning shot through him; he cried out and shook violently, trying to brace himself against nothing but the floor. He turned onto his back and shut his eyes, hoping the pain would stop. Fortunately, it did, only a moment later.

"Open your eyes," said the feminine voice.

Loki did.

"Now stand up."

Loki did that, too, with some effort. _Why am I standing? Why am I standing?!_

"Good," said the sultry voice. "Now it begins."

.

There wasn't any explanation for it. When she told him to walk toward her, he did. When she told him to raise his arm for no apparent reason, he did. Loki stared at her with horror in his eyes. _What- why am I doing this? Why am I listening to her?!_ He shut his eyes tight at her expression, which still held the wide-eyed gaze now coupled with unnerving glee.

"What," Loki barely managed to get out, "have you _done_ to me?" His words were clipped, strained.

"Me? Well, yes, I suppose it was me. But you have Gladerean to thank for carving you up. That particular rune-spell has been lost for ages. Leave it to my so-called _father_ to find it hidden in this cave system." She looked around, at the ceiling and walls. Loki stood stock still before her, still hurting but unable to move for a reason he couldn't fathom. "But it took him near a hundred years to discern even _where_ on someone's body it was supposed to go," she laughed. "Or even that it _did_ go on someone's body. As I said: such a fool. Now, go lay on the altar, might as well put it to good use."

_No, don't.._. but his body was already moving on its own without his permission. Loki struggled against it, with everything in him, even as the pain increased, he pushed against the feel of his limbs that were no longer under his command. He didn't know why he was moving, he still had thoughts, still had his mind, still wanted nothing more than to stop his body, but _it simply wouldn't listen._

Before he knew it, he was before the altar. "_No_," he hissed, but his arms were moving, lifting him, his legs pushing him up. He then rolled onto his back and winced at the cold stone scraping against his back again. _Again!_ He was back on the altar, but this time he had _voluntarily_ and without restraints been put here. No, not voluntarily. His body was no longer his own, _what has she done?!_

Trying his best to relax against the altar, he looked to Malcinia. "What- what do you want with me?" A slightly different question, perhaps she would answer?

She lifted her chin minutely. "Not this, originally. But one must adapt, yes? My purpose was Asgard, but given your _talents_ I'm having to... improvise."

_My talents?_ "You mean," Loki tried, "I _saw_ you, for what you are."

She laughed and walked to his side, finger trailing his arm. "Fishing for answers in shark-infested waters, Odinson? You'll only lose an arm." Her smile was certainly shark-like right now. "But I have nothing to lose, so yes. You've felt what I am, tapped on my mask, seen that this skin I wear is nothing but a convenient place to live," she looked at him, face suddenly, _terrifyingly_, calm, then said slowly, "for the moment..."

Loki frowned at her for several seconds, absorbing her words, their meaning. Then, as if the realization physically hurt him, he flinched back. "_No_," he hissed. "No, you-" he stared at her with horror in his eyes. "You _can't_, it- it's impossible, _no_-"

She threw her head back and barked with laughter, "_Impossible?! _Isn't that what you thought of Gladerean's plan?" She lowered her head and stared at him, suddenly very serious, then leaned down _very_ slowly until her lips nearly touched his ear. Loki tried to back away, get away, but his body was compelled to stay still. "Well, you were right about _him_, but do not presume to tell _me _what _is_ or _isn't_ possible, little prince," she said, voice a whispered growl. "You have no _idea_ what _I_ can or cannot do." She straightened up suddenly with a wide grin and a brief glance back at the door. "We'll have _such fun_ together." And suddenly a shark's smile would have been less terrifying than hers.

* * *

**A/N: Is this a cliffhanger? Sorta? Oh well, sorry for the cliffie if it is one, lol. These later chapters will probably all be cliffhangers in some way or another. What's that phrase? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Lol. Anyway, have you guessed what her purpose is yet? I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, but I also didn't have her come right out and say it.**

**Random thought: _do_ they have sharks on Asgard? Eh, why not. They have (sort of) an ocean there, although... wouldn't any marine life fall off the edge of their world? Lol! _Well_, let's not think too much on it. Yeah. That kind of attitude solves everything. XD**


	8. The Last Crown

**A/N: So sorry for the delay, guys! But! an extra long chapter to make up for it. ;) There's at least two more chapters after this one, maybe three... we'll see how it goes. **

* * *

**- Chapter 8 - **

**_The Last Crown_**

Malcinia had been standing beside Loki for the last ten minutes or so, facing his direction, doing little more than staring at the wall opposite. Her eyes alternated between half-lidded and blown wide, but it was unnerving given that the rest of her face remained expressionless. _What has she been doing?_ he wondered. He guessed that she was perhaps _concentrating_ on something, but he couldn't guess what.

Pieces of small rocks, almost sand, fell from the ceiling in the corner nearest the door, and Loki was quickly realizing that Thor was trying to get in to the room- no doubt with brute force. Well, was there any other way, at this point? Unfortunately, he couldn't lift his neck to look down and see if the new stone door was giving way at all- but he had to hope that Thor's persistence would win in the end. _Of course it will, does Thor even _know_ how to give up?_

Suddenly a strange sinking sensation filled Loki's head and he shut his eyes at the feeling. It was almost a- well, he didn't know _what_ to compare it to; it was like a _darkness_, something heavy, _unnatural_, an unpleasant weight. Something not meant to be there. Next it passed from his head to his neck, then across his chest, down his arms, hands, then to his lower body, and finally his legs and feet.

He inhaled sharply when it left out the soles of his feet, then noticed Malcinia doing the same at the same moment.

"What was that?" Loki blurted out.

Her wide eyes darted to him without her head moving and Loki winced at the hard yet blank look. The next second her gaze returned to the wall, as before. Still staring, unblinking. Her hands now rested flat, palms down on the altar next to Loki's left arm.

A definitive _crunch_ could be heard somewhere passed Loki's feet, where the open door had once been. _Thor..._ Loki wanted to move, to look down, see if the any cracks could be visible. _Thor, hurry._

Malcinia inhaled sharply suddenly, eyes lighting up, growing wider, a smile playing at her lips. Her demeanor returning to normal- if anything about her could be called 'normal' -as she no longer stared at the wall. She moved to the door, eyeing it with arms crossed.

"Your brother truly is persistent. But no matter," she returned to the trickster's side, "he's no match for me."

_Arrogant._ Certainly she and Thor had that in common, but surely her strength couldn't match his... could it? Loki's worry was growing. In his mind he had believed that if Thor came through that door, everything would be over. He would be rescued and the nightmare done. But whatever this creature was, it seemed to think even Thor would be nothing more than an irritation, a delay in her plans.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Although it was proving somewhat difficult, Feriel had joined Thor in trying to break down the door. The two men attacked the door with both arms and legs, determination growing with the cracks that spread across it like spider-webs. Feriel was tiring, Thor knew, but the elder was clearly as eager as he, but why? Was he so concerned for Loki, even though he had not met him until yesterday? Could his brother's resemblance to the man's lost son be so strong? Was there something else? Echoes of their earlier conversation flitted through Thor's mind, _"I never want to be like him- I never want to lose myself to an impossible hope."_ Then... perhaps this was a hope that _was_ possible- something to hold on to.

A few more of Gladerean's men had attacked them, but even outnumbered, none were a match for Thor. Feriel had continued on the door while Thor fought, and the prince was grateful. The men had withdrawn, obviously not foolish enough to try again. They had, however, frowned at the breaking door, confusion on their faces.

"The door is giving way," said Feriel suddenly. "We will breach it soon."

Thor nodded. "Yes," he said, breathing hard, then kicking at the rock once more, making certain not to collide with the older man.

_Soon..._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Loki breathed hard when Malcinia approached, a different look in her eye now; ready for something, eagerness in the lines of her slightly parted lips, tongue flicking about behind her teeth. She placed one hand on his forehead, the other she placed gingerly with fingers splayed on his bare chest, over his heart.

"What are you doing..?"

She closed her eyes and lifted her chin, concentrating. "Stop speaking to me, little prince. No time for idle words." Her hands were warm, almost hot, but Loki was more concerned with her next words: "Now," she began, "don't move, and..." in a low voice, "open your mind..."

The prince narrowed his gaze at her. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. _'Stop speaking to me, little prince.' _So it wasn't just his body she could control... But his vocal chords _were _a part of that body. His mind was a different matter- or so he hoped.

"Open your mind," she ordered again.

The trickster tried to shake his head, but it wouldn't move. _No,_ he said internally. His body he couldn't control, but whatever she wished to do, whatever her plans were for him- to do what it did to Gladerean's daughter... He wouldn't allow that to happen. _No, I won't let you... I won't let you!_

The heat in her hands was growing steadily, Loki wanted to pull away, the pain growing.

"Stop _resisting_," she said, voice calm. "Don't fight me, your body is already mine; your mind will follow suit."

_I don't think so_, thought Loki. He stared at her with a harsh gaze and a set jaw. But there_ was _something stirring behind his eyes, somewhere, somewhere... deeper, darker. The part of his mind he kept back with logic and conscience and everything in him that detested those parts of him; that caged those parts that everyone had but buried deep lest they grow and fester and take root like a wicked tree in unkempt dirt.

He tried to squirm away and the paralyzing feel of his own body was beginning to feel suffocating, like he was trapped... _trapped!_ Would he be forever trapped here, in his own body, unable to move or speak or do anything he pleased? To be a puppet creature for this horrid woman, bound within his flesh for all eternity?

Another crunching noise.

Loki jerked his eyes open, not remembering closing them. _No. No, Thor's here; he'll never let me stay like this. _But even with his eyes open, a darkness was beginning to cover his vision. At first he thought the hand on his head had moved down, but it remained where it had been. _What's happening?_ he asked no one. The threat of being stuck in his own body was horrible enough, but what if his will was taken as well? What would happen if she succeeded? Would he still be here, trapped in not only his body but also his mind- unable to break out, a prisoner in a cage he can't escape?

He mentally shivered, his body not even complying with that small thing.

The woman was gritting her teeth now, of what Loki could see through the growing night. Her angry white teeth almost glowed. "_Give in!_" she hissed through them. "Do as I command!"

The black across his vision was almost complete now and something begin scratching at his thoughts. It was an odd sensation, almost tickling. He wanted to chuckle and push it away like a pet bothering his toes under the blankets at night. He could no longer tell if his eyes were open or not, but... he could still see _her_, a kind of bright silhouette on the dark canvas, or at least, traces of what she-

Suddenly, everything in Loki's body jerked against itself, trying to _move_, trying to _get away_. Not from the tickling tendrils or the darkness surrounding, but away from _her_, or... it? A terrible creature suddenly stood where Malcinia had once been. It had at least six arms, perhaps four legs. Skin like fire and eyes like stars in a surrounding black, the eyes larger than any creature should need for a head of its size. It's body was large, but only slightly more than the tallest, burliest man. Upon its head was something like a spiked crown- but it was grotesque, flesh-covered and the central point reaching nearly the ceiling, the rest of the spikes nearly halfway there. From its forehead protruded four massive horns that curved around different spikes of the crown, white as snow yet still so wicked. Whatever this creature was, it certainly didn't _look_ female, at least to Loki. Where the skin was visible behind the fire, it was charred, and Loki absently wondered if it burned itself or if it was its natural skin texture.

Then, through its vicious teeth-filled mouth, lips that dripped with blood, it spoke with Malcinia's voice, but mangled, deep: "Give in, Odinson... give in... Can you see me now? Am I not beautiful? Terrible? Violation of flesh, bright and fair and filled with midnight." The words echoed in the prince's mind. They didn't make sense, they were corrupted, unnatural, vicious yet soothing. He didn't want to listen anymore, but his eyes couldn't leave the image before him, boring into his mind, filling him with dread and joy, mingled, wonderful in its contradiction. "This is what you are, can you not see it, little one? We will feast together, bring the Nine to its knees before us. The stars will beg for mercy and we'll fill them with the terror of ages." Something like a laugh grated the air, but Loki still could not move. It leaned in, flames licking the trickster god. It tilted its head. "We will become what we were in Those Places, here. Flesh and bone finally, a vessel worthy of me. You're the only one. It's you that wields this terrible future; let us do it together. Your fate is certain... but let us make it... _better_. Let us tear the screams from their throats- a vision to behold, don't you think?"

And in this horrible space, this darkness filled with fire in his vision, Loki moved. He didn't _truly_ move, but something in his mind could; it felt for its imagined muscles, and it allowed the trickster to sit up, to see this creature before him with unseeing eyes.

It leaned back, waiting, watching. The bright eyes without eyelids staring expectantly, the crown almost scratching the ceiling when it stood at full height.

The god of mischief cracked his phantom neck, eyes just as unblinking, resolute, watching the _thing_. Loki leaned forward, body forgotten, then said in a calm voice, head tilted ever so slightly: "_No_."

A sudden eruption sent spikes of pain through Loki and his mind was thrown back into his physical body; the aches and pain and _unmovable_ force of his rigid flesh screaming at him to move.

The creature- whatever it was -was her again, Malcinia, the darkness receding, the anger on her face almost a force in itself. She growled, hands still burning, eyes nearly aflame in wrath. Then, without even a blink, she leaned back, hands suddenly removed. Loki breathed in relief, drinking in the coolness of the cave returned to normal, his eyes clearing. But her abrupt change in attitude frightened him. A smile played at her lips, ready to spill. She licked her lips once.

"Well," she said in a playful tone. "If I can't have you _with_ your mind, I suppose I'll have to take you without it."

The prince's heart jerked in his chest. _What does that mean?_ But he still couldn't move, still couldn't get away.

"I should have started with that anyway," she breathed, as if disappointed in herself. She shook her head minutely, then without warning lunged toward Loki, hands outstretched as if to strangle him.

"No!" someone screamed nearby, and suddenly Malcinia let out a strangled yelp- almost a growl -then doubled over, clutching at her stomach.

Loki tried to look around, expecting his brother to fill his vision, but he still couldn't move- and that wasn't his _brother's_ voice.

A bloody hand with a knife clanged on the stone altar next to Loki's right arm.

"No..." said the voice again. _G-Gladerean?_ Loki's mind supplied. The old man's shaking head slowly entered the trickster's periphery, with Malcinia still doubled over at the left. She growled again, still doubled over, in frustration and anger.

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed through her teeth, head lifting.

Gladerean remained hunched, apparently still hurting from his injury. Loki breathed hard, unable to catch his breath at this sudden turn of events.

The man ignored his once-daughter and looked to Loki. "I am," he began, voice trembling, "I am sorry... I should not have- could not- I was... lost. So _lost_ without... her..."

Malcinia stumbled a little forward, looking around. "Be silent, old man, or I'll- _ah!_" She growled again, clutching at her stomach.

"Loki," the prince moved his eyes to look at the old sorcerer, "I am sorry."

The god of mischief didn't know what to do. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even acknowledge the man's apology. He wondered if he should. And next he wondered how Gladerean had managed to subdue Malcinia.

"Loki," he said again, looking at Malcinia, "she has my blood within her, no matter what she is now... but the spell won't hold, you must escape-"

But it didn't matter what he said, did it? Loki couldn't even move his head, much less any other part of his body; how could he escape?

Suddenly the crunching and grinding noises of rock against rock, which had been steadily growing but no one had noticed, stopped, and a moment later there was a loud crashing and the sound of great rocks falling.

"Brother!"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Thor hadn't really thought about what he should expect when he finally broke into the room, but _this _was certainly not anything close to what he might have imagined. Loki was on an altar, unrestrained but conscious, the maiden Malcinia trying to straighten herself and clutching at her stomach, and the old sorcerer bloody and crouching next the altar.

Feriel stepped up beside him, sword ready.

"My lady?" Feriel moved forward but stopped when she lifted an anger-filled gaze to the two intruders.

Then, with the most vicious sounding voice Thor had ever heard from a woman, she said, "Loki," and a sinister smile crossed her face, "kill your brother. Now," she added.

Thor frowned, no one moved, except- _Loki?_ The second prince jerked up, eyes wide.

"Thor!" Loki screamed, distressed. "Thor, I can't control myself, I can't control my body-"

"Shut up!" screeched Malcinia, eyes dangerous. "Not another word!" She began to straighten up, but leaned over in pain again, teeth bared.

Loki said nothing further but walked toward Thor, eyes still wide and fearful- pleading... _something_.

"Brother," Thor said, confusion growing, "we must leave now- what is... what is happening?" _Why does Loki not speak? What happened to Gladerean? _But Loki didn't seem to hear him, _what is he doing?_

The second prince lunged at Thor but he stopped him, holding his thin wrists. "Loki, what are you-?"

"I said _kill him!_" screamed the woman, again.

An unexpected kick to the groin sent Thor half-bent over to the floor. Loki wasted no time, he grabbed a piece of debris from the ruined door and smashed Thor over the head with it. The impact resounded in Thor's head, but only hurt a little. The pieces fell over his hair and he shook his head. "Brother, what-" But another piece- a larger one -was crashing into Thor's head. The thunderer gritted his teeth and stepped back, stumbling slightly.

Looking around, Thor noticed that Feriel was by Gladerean's side and the old sorcerer was barking orders at his former subordinate. "Go!" he said, although wearily. "Stop Malcinia, she is not what she seems. She is not my daughter anymore!" But Thor didn't have time to see what the man would do as Loki had just slipped in behind him and elbowed him in the back of the head.

"Loki!" Thor screamed as a reflex, turning around. "Stop!"

But the trickster's body didn't match his eyes, still pleading. Taking advantage of Thor's momentary distraction Loki slid up beside him and kicked at the back of Thor's right knee, bringing him down just enough for Loki to lock his arm around Thor's neck from behind, holding him in a head lock.

"Brother-" This was becoming tiresome. Loki had never been a match for Thor in the fighting ring, and now, with him so weakened and injured, he was even less of a threat. But even so, Thor didn't want to further injure his brother. And, well, the trickster's grip was _still _cutting off Thor's air. So the elder prince grabbed firmly to Loki's arm and pulled, then when he was free, still holding to Loki's wrist, he twisted him around with the arm behind his back, then grabbed Loki's other flailing wrist and joined it with the other behind the trickster's back. "Enough, brother... enough," he said softly. But Loki continued to struggle, trying to free himself.

"Thor!" yelled Gladerean from beside the altar. "Your brother is not the problem. Malcinia... she is- she is not herself anymore. She is controlling your brother- stop _her_!" Thor glared at the man, but saw that Feriel was approaching the maiden with arms lifted, as if trying to calm a wild animal.

She smiled suddenly, wolfish grin betraying her soft features. "How _amusing_," she growled. "The old man is still alive so his little _minion_ still listens. Well," she straightened a little and looked to where her father rested, "I suppose I should fix that, then..." She raised a hand toward him, but before anything happened Feriel was upon her, arms around her waist, holding her back.

"Let me go!" she screamed, but only a moment later she was laughing, still struggling, but laughing. Feriel gave Thor a look, confused. Then, she stopped moving, slightly hunched over. "Do you really think_ you_ are a match for me, Feriel?" Her soft tone sent shivers down Thor's spine.

"No," spoke Gladerean from behind the altar, "he's not... But your blood is still my blood." And Thor noticed a small rune carved into the man's chest where his robe had been ripped open. Malcinia screeched and tried to fall to the floor, but Feriel held her.

"Old man," said a voice from Malcinia's throat- it was deep and unnatural coming from a woman's body. She laughed. "It won't be _that_ easy..." She smiled again, but suddenly there was blood dripping out of her mouth, down her already soiled clothes. She didn't seem to notice or care. "You're only killing_ her_."

Gladerean inhaled sharply. He stared at the floor a moment, then said, "You lie. She is gone. Gone... like..."

"Your wife?" chuckled Malcinia, who Thor was beginning to suspect _wasn't_ exactly herself anymore. Or had she always been like this, hiding her true dark self? "He was right," she indicated Loki with a nod toward him, "you can't bring back your wife, _but_," she smiled more, blood still falling, "the prince is quite useful for other things."

"Like possession?" asked Gladerean, obviously tired, slumping. "Is that not what you have been trying to do, take his body and his mind? But he fought you, didn't he?" Malcinia's grin faded slightly. "You underestimate a prince's blood. You've failed..." He coughed fiercely and leaned against the altar.

The glint in the woman's eye returned, her smile widening. "Perhaps, but he's still mine. And eventually, _eventually_ he'll be mine, mind and body, both. It's only a matter of time; he's already fading." Her eyes on Loki made Thor nervous.

"And why her?" asked Gladerean suddenly.

"What's that?" she asked, curious.

"Malcinia, my daughter. Why her?"

"Why not? She has magic in her blood and her mind was easy enough to invade. All these years of hiding, of trying to find a greater vessel; and now I've found one. I meant to take Asgard, but it would have been easier to..." she looked to the princes "... get to _know_ the two first, establish a relationship, perhaps even meet their great old king." She laughed, sharp and violent. "Pathetic, all of them. Unworthy of the ground they think hallowed. But I can see their darkness within, festering like a hidden wound, deep; can you count Asgard's sins, prince?" Her eyes were suddenly on Thor, and he didn't know why but he wanted to wither beneath that gaze. Some part of him couldn't help but feel she was assaulting him with only her piercing eyes.

Loki had stopped struggling but he was dead weight in Thor's hands now, head bowed. The elder prince worried he was hurting him further, but returned his attention to the odd woman. Still, he said nothing, uncertain what he should- _could_ say to this woman. _What madness is she spewing?_

Malcinia licked her lips and watched the three men, unmoving.

"Thor," said Gladerean, "she's biding her time," his dying eyes were on the first prince. "Run... run with your brother, now!"

But it was too late, when Thor turned to leave through the door they had just come through, it was once again being walled up in stone. "No!" he yelled, but there was nowhere to go, nothing to do.

The woman laughed and the sound was irritating, like scratching glass on stone. "No one is leaving," she sing-songed.

Then, with a tight-lipped smirk and a body straightening to her full height, Malcinia grabbed Feriel's arms around her waist and ripped them away from her body. Feriel screamed at the crushing grip and Thor thought he heard bones snapping as the man fell to the floor in a heap.

"Well that's better," she said, clearly whatever had been ailing her had passed. "Now, where were we?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The god of mischief had tried his best to kill his brother; and he couldn't believe that no matter how hard he had tried, he just _couldn't_ stop himself. His only consolation was that he knew he was no match for Thor. His elder brother was second to no one in Asgard in battle prowess, even at his age. Still, fighting Thor hurt Loki, if not physically. And when the thunderer finally gripped Loki in his unyielding hands, he was beyond relieved. _Finally_, he had thought. His urge to kill Thor subsided soon after, and Loki realized it wasn't simply Malcinia's commands that his body heeded, but also her intent without verbal orders. She no longer required him to kill Thor, so Loki stopped.

And when Malcinia finally managed to overcome the spell her father had placed on her, Loki's heart sank. _No..._ Strangely, the old sorcerer was his final hope, but he was weakening quickly and the spell had worn off. And now she was approaching the two princes, a small condescending smirk on her face.

She put a finger to her lips, as if considering. "Did I not say I would kill your brother," she spoke to Loki, words teasing. "And I hate to be known as a liar," and she laughed, throwing her head back, then stopped almost as soon as she began. "Liar," she chuckled, as if to herself.

Thor moved backward, dragging Loki with him. The younger prince knew Thor wasn't being cowardly, but that he feared for his brother's safety, no doubt afraid he would be unable to protect Loki- and probably still confused as to what was going on.

Malcinia walked forward slowly, deliberately delaying, even mocking them by approaching so casually, as if there were nothing they could do, that it was all inevitable.

_Don't let go, Thor_, Loki pleaded internally. Even with the uncomfortable strain of his arms pinned behind him, Thor's closeness was comforting. When she came closer, Thor used one hand to hold Loki's wrists, then moved the other around his chest, clutching the younger against him.

"Loki," he whispered in the younger's ear, "what is this? What is-?"

Malcinia stopped, eyeing them. "He can't speak, dear prince. Haven't you been listening? _He is mine_." She smiled and tilted her head, eyes alight. "Body and mind," she glanced at Gladerean. "Well... _mind_ soon enough."

"Whatever you are, _creature_," Thor spat. "He will never be yours."

She barked a laugh and clapped her hand over her chest in mock hurt. "Oh, '_creature_'_._ Lovely." She stared at Thor. "What an amusing blunt instrument you are. Perhaps I'll kill you _after_ I'm in your brother. That would be more fun, don't you agree?" But she didn't wait for an answer as she _tisked_. "A shame you don't favor magic as well. The crown prince... What a magnificent idea that would be. A shame." She pursed her lips. "Loki." And the trickster could do nothing but lift his gaze to her. She stared at him intently. "When I free you from Thor," she tilted her head, "kill my father for me, and quickly." And her smile was a little _too_ delighted.

.

Just as he had been ordered, when he was free of his brother's grip, Loki jumped away and stumbled toward the old sorcerer. He wasn't certain _how_ she had freed him, only that he heard Thor grunting and the two scuffling about noisily, Malcinia occasionally laughing and Thor's boots hitting the floor.

Loki approached Gladerean in a half-crawl, too tired to walk. The sorcerer lay on his back now, and was still a few steps away, when a blur of a body collided with the trickster. _What-?_ And he was suddenly being pinned down, on his stomach against the hard, cold floor.

"I beg your pardon, prince," came Feriel's strained voice, "but I cannot allow you to do that."

Although Loki couldn't turn, it was obvious that Feriel was struggling to hold him down, his arms probably still injured. Loki was about to sigh with relief when his body started jerking, apparently not satisfied to surrender. He bucked up, trying to get the man off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thor and Malcinia fighting. It was strange, to see Thor fighting a woman, dress flowing around her as she whisked about, laughing as if this were nothing but play-acting, the crown prince just another toy in her box. For his part, Thor seemed reluctant to unleash his full strength, preferring to try and grab her- similarly when he had been fighting Loki -than to try and hit her or use a weapon. Although Loki was sympathetic, it was ingrained in them to not harm a woman who couldn't defend herself, they didn't have _time_ for Thor to practice his chivalry. This woman- _not woman_ -certainly _could _defend herself, and her intentions were far from noble, besides. Loki wanted to scream at him, _'She's not a woman, you fool!'_ not anymore, at least, but of course, he couldn't.

Somehow, although he wasn't sure how as he had been distracted by Thor's fight, Loki threw Feriel off and crawled desperately toward Gladerean. _No! No no no no... _Loki might have been happy to kill the man earlier, but now it was only murder. His legs caught on something and a hand reached up and pulled him back. _Yes!_ But Feriel screamed at the pain in his arm and struggled against Loki's body, now on his back, as the two grappled with each other; one trying to get away, the other trying his best to keep a grip when his arms were so injured.

Again, Loki worried about Thor as his gaze shifted to his brother. Malcinia smiled wildly as she climbed on a prone Thor's back with a sword. The thunderer lifted up on his knees, trying to throw her off, and she laughed as her free arm found purchase around his neck. A jerk in his own body told Loki he had loosed himself from Feriel, as he once again scrambled to the supine form of the sorcerer.

"Oh, Loki," sang Malcinia in a sultry voice, and the trickster looked to her, a mere foot from his intended victim. Thor was on hands and knees, the sword Malcinia clutched in her hand ready to cut his throat. _No!_ Loki's mind screamed. _That won't- that can't kill Thor- No... no it-_ But she continued speaking, and he could do nothing but listen. "I _was_ going to use _you_ to kill him, but," her gaze shifted to him, then back to Loki. "But I'm impatient-" Her hand gripped the hilt tightly, ready to slice the prince's throat- _No, please! _Loki fought with everything in him, trying to move, _do anything_, but his body still wouldn't move. _I can't let this happen._

Her smile widened, time slowed, the blade moved, Feriel's grip on Loki tightened... But before the blade's edge could cut, Malcinia jerked back, eyes wide, dropping the sword as it clattered on the ground. A loud growling noise ground out from her throat, a painful sound gritted out through clenched teeth.

"No, my daughter..." Loki jerked his head to the sorcerer, so close to him, so easy to kill... but he was already dead- dying, the hilt of the dagger he had used for his rituals sticking out of his chest. "No," he said again, gurgling. "I'll take... you... with-" The sorcerer stared at his once-daughter. "You're not... my daughter..." his eyes closed as his head fell, lost to the clutches of death.

"_No!_" screamed Malcinia in absolute anger. "No! You-" she stumbled around Thor, who stood up, confused, but the prince grabbed the discarded sword, nonetheless. She grabbed at her heart and inhaled a ragged breath, as if the air around her were suddenly insufficient to sustain her. She nearly tripped on the debris, but righted herself and fell against the altar, sitting beside it. "No..." she said again "...damned... _blood magic_," she hissed. Her body slumped as her eyes slowly closed, words still tumbling out. "...Should... have... killed... when-"

Then it was quiet. No one moved. And then, suddenly, like a blast of energy, or a crash of an unforgiving wave, or an avalanche in the mountains, Malcinia screamed- or more like growled -body arching viciously, then shook uncontrollably. It took a moment for Loki to realize that the ground shook as well, stones falling from the ceiling. The unnatural sound continued to pour from the woman, strange noises Loki couldn't decipher, suddenly turned into a kind of language- angry words spit from the shaking form.

"Loki!" The form of Thor filled Loki's vision as he could do nothing but stare. "Brother..." Thor ignored the angry swell of power filling the room, or perhaps he couldn't sense it as Loki could? The trickster felt himself being cradled against his brother's chest as the elder sat behind him. The two princes knew there was no escape- not yet. Both doors were still blocked. _Trapped... again._

And suddenly it was quiet. Time seemed to stop. _Everything _stopped. The sounds, the terrible voice from the once-woman, the shaking- everything. Even their breaths seemed to stop.

Out of the quiet came a familiar voice: "Brother," Thor whispered from behind him, "what's happening?"

To his surprise Loki felt his head shaking. Then, his lips moved, sound forming and releasing from his throat, "I don't know..."

Thor held him tighter, the still air no doubt unnerving the thunderer, unaccustomed to the realm of sorcery, the immaterial, as he was.

From this angle they could barely see Malcinia, most of her obscured by the altar. And when her feet disappeared, _moved_, hidden completely by the altar, they each held their breaths. _Could it be? After all that, she still lives?_

And when the form of the woman stood, shakily and leaning against the stone altar, she looked about, then with a cry of anguish, she ripped herself away, as if to escape from the mere stone before her. "_No..._" she whispered, trembling hand covering her mouth. "No... father, father, _no..._" Tears spilled and she continued to back away. "_No!_" she screamed, the sound so pained the two princes flinched. "I didn't-" she shook her head "-I didn't, no I didn't..."

Feriel stood, cradling his arms, but walking toward her. "My lady... are you..."

But she ignored him, eyes frozen on her father's still form.

To the side, the door suddenly crumbled, as did the other across the room. The stone nearly turned to sand, spilling out onto the floor beneath.

Loki stared at Malcinia and Feriel, as the man tried to approach the nearly hysterical woman. He too appeared to be crying. _Then... is she-?_ He could barely believe it. _Could her father have driven out the creature? Is it- is it over?_

Thor hugged him tighter, his arms wrapping more fully around Loki. The trickster sighed and held firmly to his brother's arms.

_It's over... it's over... it's over..._

* * *

**A/N: No it's not over, Loki, we still have chapters to go! XD Actually, the next chapter should be up in the next few days- maybe over the weekend, depending on if I can find the time. I've already written it, I just need to proofread and edit, etc. Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter and that it wasn't confusing or something! :) **


	9. What We Are

**A/N: Well, I was actually planning on updating this over the weekend but couldn't find the time (as I suspected), but here we are! I hope you guys likey! ;D**

* * *

**- Chapter 9 - **

**_What We Are_**

The others had rushed in soon after, wielding swords and various other weapons. But there was no more danger and whatever spell they were under, whatever blood magic held them, it became apparent that they were now the servants of Malcinia, who paid them little heed. She cried into Feriel's shoulder, clearly exhausted and distressed from her ordeal.

With their leader dead the men saw little point in attempting to detain the princes, thus they looked about nervously, uncertain what to do.

Loki leaned against Thor, his head on his shoulder, as they sat against a wall near the exit. Even though Thor was not very hurt, he seemed mentally exhausted, as he laid his head upon Loki's.

"What happened here, brother?" Thor asked quietly.

Loki sighed tiredly. "I'm too tired, Thor. Ask me again later?"

The elder nodded, clearly having expected that answer. "What do we do now?" asked Thor, but it didn't sound like a question.

The trickster answer anyway: "Go home."

Another nod.

.

Unwilling to remain in the cave any longer, Thor and Loki decided to leave as soon as possible. The older supported the younger with an arm around his waist, as Loki still felt weak, and, well... he wouldn't admit it out loud, but he simply _wanted_ Thor close.

Malcinia approached the princes, eyes red but no longer wet. "My princes?"

The two stood quietly, Thor holding tight to the younger. "How may we assist you, my lady?" asked Thor.

Loki felt relief when he no longer felt... whatever he felt when near the creature- when near Malcinia. Its... _presence_, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was gone.

She smiled, somewhat sadly. "I am not of noble blood, your highness, you may call me Malcinia."

Thor smiled back a little, Loki only stared. It was strange, to see her like this, still the same face yet now so calm, so... _normal_. She was again a quiet, unassuming maiden, distressed and holding to her grief quietly.

"But," she continued, "I am..." she hesitated, looking down, around. "I do not know what to...say." Her eyes returned to the men.

The thunderer's shoulders slumped a little as he nodded, but clearly her attention was directed at Loki. _What to say... We have something in common, then. I don't even know what to _think. _How do I- What do we do now? Just go on as if nothing has happened? Just go home, hope that the nightmares won't come?_

Loki's tight-lipped smile felt forced, almost a grimace, but he tried anyway. "Nor I... my lady," he said, unable to form her name in his mouth.

The men- _her_ men, now -were milling about, clearing the room, cleaning, having already reverently removed their former master's body.

"May I ask," began Thor, but paused and looked to the two, as if one of them would object, but seeing nothing he continued. "May I ask: why do the men serve you now? Does this spell pass by blood?"

Loki frowned, looking to Thor. "Spell?" _Then they _were _bound to serve... More blood magic?_ He was also surprised that Thor's assumption was most likely true.

Malcinia nodded. "Yes. My father bound the men to his own blood, that they would serve him, but because of this, they now serve me. I..." she looked down. "I will break the spell and free them. It was my intention, when Feriel vowed to come with us, to help free you, my princes; I cannot live knowing that others might be bound to me."

Thor nodded, clearly satisfied. Loki was... less satisfied. He just felt... _blank_. Even so, he was curious, he wanted to _see_ the breaking spell. _How might she do it?_ _She must already be a great magic-wielder then, or has she learned from her father?_

"Lady Malcinia," Thor said suddenly, "what of after? After you have freed the men, what will you do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, your highness. I no longer have a home. The Sanguine Wood has become my home, these men, my family- although, for all the time I have known them, that-" she gritted her teeth "-that _thing_ was controlling me. Still..." she played with her new red dress, which Loki just now noticed and was glad of, the memory of the ruined yellow dress unnerving him, still.

Thor hummed. "Well, _my lady_," he gave a small bow, which caused Loki to tip as well. "Perhaps you would like to join us in Asgard?"

She frowned, but smiled a little. "I thank you, your highness, but my place is here, with my men. Asgard is..." she tilted her head a little, searching for inoffensive words, probably.

"Still," continued Thor, "your men have much work to do here. Join us for this little bit, you can return later today." Loki lifted a brow to his brother, but said nothing. The only thing keeping him from objecting was that Malcinia appeared as conflicted as he was about the idea. "And," added Thor, "you may have sustained injury. Our healers are some of the best. Hm?" He nodded once and gave a small smile.

She gave a half smile to the- _oh of course, Thor's using his charm, of all things_. Loki rolled his eyes at him but Thor didn't see him.

Malcinia gave a half-shrug, then, nervously, nodded twice, eyes on the floor.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_'Not of noble blood'_ she had said. Thor smirked. _Well, blood is not everything_, he thought. She was a charming lady, once he understood that the being he had fought was something wholly different from what stood before him. Her plain features seemed less plain and more endearing, somehow. She was too shy for his taste, but perhaps Loki might-? _No_, he cut off that thought. All Loki would remember of her was that she shared the face of a creature that had done horrible things to him. So no, perhaps not. She was kind, still, so his invitation to her was genuine. And who knew what sort of permanent damage she might have because of the inhabitation of that creature, she _should_ see a healer. The men seemed well enough, except Feriel, who's wounds were already being treated.

Fortunately for Loki, whatever spell had been suppressing his magical abilities died with Gladerean- to which the trickster only seemed mildly pleased. He was clearly tired, too tired to even care, so it seemed.

.

The walk back up the winding passageway was very confusing to Thor, and quickly became obvious that that was its purpose. If an enemy ever breached their cave system, they would have difficulty navigating- to escape or otherwise. But the lady appeared very well acquainted with the dark, cold tunnels, leading the way upward with a bright torch.

Loki seemed very much subdued, quiet and contemplative. _What do you expect, idiot?_ Thor asked himself, _of course_ Loki wouldn't be well, after what he's been through. Some instinctual protective big brother part of Thor wanted to carry the younger prince out, knowing he was still injured and in pain, but he ignored that part, knowing that Loki would only find it irritating and unwelcome.

_No matter,_ Thor thought, _he's well enough to walk, at least_. Still, he kept at least one arm on him at all times, feeling that if he let go he might magically disappear. An unreasonable fear? Thor didn't care to test it.

When finally they reached the bright entrance of the cavern, Thor heard the tell-tale crashing of the waterfall outside, a welcomed respite from the dull _thud thud_ of their boots against stone and the crackling of the torch before his eyes.

Malcinia put the torch out, the sun at its zenith, as the two princes walked beside her. They walked for a few hours, the maiden clearly knowing her way. 'To your Bifrost site, yes?' she had asked. Apparently, it was common knowledge where the Aesir would touch down when entering this part of the realm. 'It's not far, we'll make it to the edge of the forest by nightfall,' she had said. 'And after that we can travel in the dark as long as we are out of the forest.' The princes had nodded, glad to soon be away from the strange wood.

They stopped frequently, both Loki and Malcinia needing rest. Thor waited patiently, but he was eager to be out of this place, his nerves still on alert in a potentially dangerous forest. He didn't want to fall behind, knowing that they would have to rest if night fell. _Sleep,_ he remembered. _'The trees are nocturnal, they only release spores at night. For whatever reason, those asleep are never affected.'_ Then they would _have_ to sleep.

Malcinia smirked at him as they walked, "Afraid to be caught in these woods at night, prince?" She smiled then, teasingly. Sometimes she reminded him of Loki.

Thor shrugged, looking around.

"You need not worry," she reassured him. "I have lived in this wood most of my life. There is nothing here, we need only sleep when it becomes dark and we will be fine."

Loki said nothing, mind probably somewhere else.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Did Feriel tell you the whole tale?" asked Malcinia, Loki barely heard her as she spoke to Thor. "Of the Sanguine Wood?" He didn't hear Thor's response as his gaze was fixed on the ground as it passed by. "A shame. It's one of my favorite tales."

Loki jerked his head up. "You, as well?" he blurted out.

She frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"The Sanguine Wood," returned Loki, uncertain where he was going with this. "The... _other_ one, she- it- whatever it was, it said that the story of the Sanguine Wood was its favorite."

Malcinia tilted her head a little, "Well, I'm afraid its personality was mingled with my own. My likes became _its_ likes, and so forth. I've lived with it for so long I hardly know myself anymore," she added sadly.

Thor nodded in understanding. _Hm._ It was interesting and Loki suddenly found himself curious as to what else she had to say about the creature. Did she know of it's _true_ appearance, had she ever seen it? Where did it come from, was it of the Nine Realms, or some other dark place as yet unexplored? Did it die when it was expelled, or did it simply return to wherever it came from? Questions filled his head but he didn't know how to voice them. There were simply _too many_, where should he start? And suddenly the idea of bringing her to Asgard held merit; how much could she teach them? What new secret knowledge could she have glimpsed from this otherworldly creature? The prospects were tantalizing.

They were stopping again, now by the river that they had been following to their left. After drinking his fill, Loki sat on a large stump near a tree that had fallen over the water but was insufficient to dam it up.

"May I join you?" asked the soft voice of Malcinia. Loki, mostly successfully, suppressed a flinch at her presence suddenly so near.

He nodded and she sat, obviously with some care. Thor remained by the river, washing his face and hands.

"Your highness," she began, "I-" she stopped, nervousness etched on her features. "I am..." she looked away, toward the wood. _Can she not simply say it?_ Loki still didn't know what to think of her presence. He knew, rationally, that she was a completely different person from that- _thing_. But emotions were rarely rational, and he knew it would take some time before he could be near her without feeling the urge to flee, before his hackles wouldn't raise.

"Oi! The Thor, the son of Odin!" said an excited old man's voice suddenly from somewhere to their right. _The Thor?_ Loki glanced around, trying to spot the voice's owner.

Thor turned, then walked toward a man that was fast approaching. _Who in the Nine Realms is _this_?_ wondered Loki, slightly exasperated at the man's visage. He looked like a vagabond, if anything, wild hair and eyes, dirtied features and bare feet a clear indicator. The sticks and leaves in his hair also adding to that thought.

"Furrow!" returned Thor, smiling. The little man walked up, a crooked smile with missing teeth mirroring Thor's typically bright one. "I must thank you for your aid, as you can see," Thor stretched an arm toward Loki, "I have found my brother. Thank you," he nodded in thanks.

But when Furrow's eyes fell on Loki, the old hermit went rigid, body stiff like the trees surrounding them. _Why does he look at me so?_ But on closer inspection, the man wasn't looking at _him_, he was looking to his right, at Malcinia. _Hm. Perhaps this strange old man knew what she was before?_ For her part, she remained passive, but still.

"That-" began Furrow sputtering. "_That_- I-I-I can't, no can't. We have to get away! Get away!" He looked to Thor, concern in every line of his weathered features, nervous on his muddied feet.

Thor shook his head. "You need not worry, friend. The beast within has been vanquished, you need no longer fear her."

Furrow's eyes narrowed, tilting his head this way and that, as he leaned a little closer. "'Beast'?" He looked to Thor, tapping a quick finger on his lip. "Then what of the other beast?"

Thor hesitated. "Other-?"

And suddenly Loki felt himself being jerked back, then something sharp and cold against his neck. He remained sitting, but was forced to lean back- Malcinia now behind him.

"Malcinia!" Thor bellowed angrily. "What are you-?"

"Silence, Thor," she hissed from behind Loki, the knife on his throat jerking slightly in warning. Her other hand gripped at the back of his hair, pulling at his head.

Thor took one step forward, nose flaring in barely contained wrath, eyes ready for battle.

"Ah, ah!" she warned. "I know what you're thinking- you as well, _my prince_." She jerked Loki's head a little as he winced. "But it would be _unwise_ to attack in any way. Oh yes, don't you recognize this _blade_?" She tilted the handle a little so he could see, but the hard edge remained on his throat. "This is the Harrowing Blade- I could _very easily_ kill you with it, immortal or no. Even _touching_ it would kill a mere mortal." Immediately, the trickster recognized it; it was the same blade that Gladerean had used to cut the runes in his back- what was to be used for the ritual... to kill him... And it had eventually killed Gladerean, by his own hand. Why hadn't he searched for it after the fight? Loki cursed his distracted stupidity. It was obviously no ordinary blade.

"What do you want?" Thor asked darkly, eyes promising pain.

"What I _wanted_ was to go to Asgard- but this _fool-_" she screeched in annoyance at Furrow. "I knew I should have killed you!"

_The question clearly should not be 'What do you want' so much as 'What- _Who _are you?'_ Loki thought. He no longer _sensed_ the creature from before. So, he decided _he _would ask. If he was to die, best to get answers now. "May I ask a question?" Loki said calmly, eyebrows raised.

"What?" she said angrily, clearly not expecting the question as she jerked at his head a little.

"I said: 'May I ask a question?'" Loki repeated.

She scoffed then chuckled. "A question? Why not?" Although the laugh was familiar, and the edge of the blade was still cold, still dangerous against his skin... the fearless swagger, the nonchalant dark and razor wit of the being from before was gone. Her words now seemed forced, almost... wary?

"Who... are you?" Straightforward, simple. If: why not a question? Then: why not a simple one?

Now she laughed outright and the hand that clutched at his hair loosened as the arm instead draped across his collarbone, below his neck and the blade. She spoke in his ear. "Clever one, aren't you?"

Thor and Furrow stared. The former clearly seeing red, barely holding himself back, the latter confused and almost... amused? No, that wasn't right. Loki couldn't decipher the look, exactly.

"Well," she continued, "I suppose I'll get to tell that tale, after all. Or perhaps a bit _more_ of it."

Thor's brow lowered a little; the old hermit remained the same, unblinking, staring.

"Most of what Feriel told you was accurate, _except_ that it wasn't the blood mage who cast the final spell, it was..." she hesitated. "It was _that thing_, the thing that's lived with me for so long. _It_ had possessed the blood mage, as she had invited it to do so, in her desperation."

Loki frowned.

"Oh yes. _Invited._ Do you really think it's so easy to enter an unwilling host? The creature fell into this realm- so much blood spilled. It _smelled_ it, _hungered_ for it. Death and destruction; it waded into the fray, waiting, _hoping_ to be called within. And finally, it got its wish. But it overestimated the strength of the flesh and bones it had inhabited, the vessel died in the wake of the power of such a devastating spell. And for so long it was alone, lingering in this wood. Until _I_ came, and I felt it. Wonderful creature, truly."

Thor spoke, "You mean to say that you _invited_ this creature to dwell within you?"

"Hm, and now he gets it. Do you have any idea of the power that thing gave me? I have knowledge now that you can't imagine, Loki. And it wanted you, _oh_ it wanted you, but you refused. It thought that with the Old Magic cast on you it would be easier to take your mind- it was wrong. Controlling the body is so much easier than possessing the mind."

"And what of you?" Loki asked. "What would have become of you had it left you for me?"

"Don't misunderstand, Odinson, I enjoyed my time with the creature. Such darkness and volatility; I treasured the knowledge that one day I would see the worlds fall before me, but-"

A pause. "But?"

"But we were still two beings in one body. Its desire for conquest was delightful, but my hopes and dreams were far more reachable, at least in the short term."

"And..." Loki hesitated, wondering if he should even ask, "what might that be?"

She leaned in close to his ear, whispering, "_Murder_." She chuckled. "Blood, violence, death," she said good-naturedly. "Call it what you will, I'd love nothing more than to be covered in your blood," she paused, "and his." _Thor as well, of course._ "That _being _gave me the power to do so, but its... _lofty_ goals often required subterfuge, steady plans, scheming, _lying_..."

Loki scoffed, understanding. _That simple? Truly?_ "You mean... you got _bored_?"

Her breathy laugh tickled his ear. "You know who the first person I killed was?" Something about her tone made Loki sure he _didn't_ want to know. She inhaled, then exhaled. She hummed. "Mother." The prince stiffened, blood draining from his face. "She was always _nagging_, so I poisoned her drink one day while she sat quietly, reading. Only, after she died, I realized how positively _dull_ it was. How I should have showered her in her own blood. But when I realized my father would be coming home soon, I panicked. I ripped apart her body and broke open the door to make it look like someone had broken in. And fortunately, during that time, the armies of Asgard were invading, it was easy to invent the tale of how my poor mother, desperate to protect her child, was killed when she confronted the warriors of the Aesir. Such a tragedy," she sighed in mock sadness.

"You are a monster," Thor said, almost blankly but his voice was low.

Loki felt her teeth smile against the side of his neck. "Oh, my dear, yes. And can you imagine a monster caged by a mere beast, powerful though it was- oh no. I couldn't have that. It was _I_ who convinced the creature to go into you, Loki. Either way I would get what I wanted."

"And what was that?" asked Thor. "Why Asgard? Why should you care about some distant land that has done nothing to you?"

She laughed, shrill. "Done nothing to me? You make it sound as though I need a reason! What could be more delightful, more _delicious_ than to slaughter the sons of Odin in their own home? Conquest is all well and good, but... to feel the blood of your victims on your hands," she sniffed at Loki's neck, he winced. "What could be better?"

Clearly there was no reasoning with this... woman. She was no better than the creature that had inhabited her, why hadn't he seen it? But how could he? If he hadn't sensed the creature, he and Thor would no doubt already be back in Asgard with it, oblivious to the creature's nefarious purpose. For some reason, despite the creature's desire for conquest, he would have preferred _it_ to _her_. She seemed to desire killing for the sake of killing. In some strange way, _she_ was even worse than _it_- although he wasn't quite sure why. A desire to rule others was at least _understandable_, if detestable given the creature's methods, but Malcinia, she was absolute in her darkness, her evil. _Unnatural._ A true monster.

And suddenly he knew he couldn't let her get away. He wasn't sure _what_ she was planning, given that, even with the knife, she was no match for Thor. With the creature gone she was most likely a simple woman, Vanir by blood, if she was truly the daughter of Gladerean. _Not invincible,_ then.

Without thinking, almost as a reflex, Loki jerked his elbow back as hard as he could, and with his other hand tried to stop the blade's edge from cutting him. Malcinia yelped and stumbled back, but the sharp edge sliced into his neck, although not completely. He had stopped it from going too far. The cut was deep, but he would heal before he would lose too much blood, his body's natural magic would react to the dire injury, repairing it quickly. To his relief the knife fell to the stump beside him, the tip embedding itself in the wood.

Before he or Thor could react, Furrow screeched and jumped upon the woman from where he stood, leaping into the air like some animal. Loki stumbled out of the way, falling nearly on his face. _Who is this man?!_ Thor helped him up a moment later, and at the same moment, they both winced as the strange old hermit and the wicked woman attacked each other with abandon.

"Should we intervene?" Thor asked from his side, concerned, still clutching at his brother.

Loki nodded, but a moment later, felt... cold. "Thor-?" His eyes went wide as he felt for his neck, blood pouring from the wound.

"Loki?!" Thor's hand was suddenly on his neck, confusion and worry in his eyes. "What's happening? I thought your magic would heal the wound-?" His other hand held the back of his neck as Loki dropped to his knees; Thor followed him down.

The younger god didn't know what to think as he held onto his own throat, feeling his blood seeping out.

"No, no, no, Loki, what do I do?!"

"The... blade..." Loki croaked out.

"What?"

"It's... magic, the blade... bring... it. Can't... heal." And suddenly an odd thought entered Loki's head: _did the wounds on his back ever heal?_ They had stopped bleeding, he thought, but he couldn't see for himself if the runed-cuts had ever fully healed. What _was_ that knife?

"I'll- I'll get you- get you back to Asgard, you will be fine- I swear it," Thor muttered in a panic, the two people fighting nearby forgotten.

Loki tried to smile but didn't think he succeeded. "Don't... swear if... can't keep it."

Thor's eyes filled with tears as he readied himself to carry Loki. "Can you hold to your throat yourself? Tightly?" The determination in the thunderer's eyes suddenly made Loki feel safer, like everything would be alright, as long as Thor was there. And anyway, Thor _always_ got his way; that wouldn't change now.

Loki nodded and winced at the movement, and brought his other hand more securely around his neck when Thor's were removed. The elder prince grabbed the magical blade from the stump, tucked it into the back of his belt, then without delay scooped Loki into his arms.

A frustrated scream reached them from nearby, and the brothers remembered the scuffle. _Even if I make it, we can't just leave the two fighting here. What if Furrow loses? Malcinia cannot be allowed to roam free._ But there was _no time_. He was losing too much blood- had already lost too much. Could he die from this? He had never lost so much blood before and his mind scrambled for any knowledge that might aid him, only to draw a blank.

Thor grew frustrated and the look in his eye told him he wasn't going to wait. And suddenly the trees were whipping by them as Thor ran as fast as he could toward where the Bifrost opened.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_I swore to get him back to Asgard, back home, and I will. _Thor had never broken his promises before, and he wasn't about to start. His legs carried him swiftly, almost like the wind itself bore them on its invisible wings. Every muscle in his body focused on this one purpose, to run, run, run and never look back.

He jumped steadily over a fallen branch, never wavering from the path before him. He didn't know how, but even in the darkening sky he knew the way. _We will _not_ be caught here in the dark. No. We will not._ The edge of the wood could be seen through the trees, and Thor dared to smile. _Yes!_ And after a few more steps- and what seemed like an eternity -the two princes burst out from the edge of the dark wood and into grassy open fields. Thor didn't dare slow down, though, his feet never stopping.

"Heimdall!" Thor yelled to the sky. He knew they weren't yet close enough to be called up yet, but he wanted the gatekeeper to ready the healers and their father for aid. "Heimdall! Tell father that Loki is injured! His injury will not heal!" He knew his words would reach the gatekeeper and that he needn't yell, but he couldn't help himself. "Please, hurry!"

And when Thor glanced at Loki, his heart nearly stopped. His little brother's face was as white as death- _no, not death, please not death_. But he wasn't dead, no he wasn't. His eyes were closed but his hands still gripped tightly to his bloodied neck. Thor swallowed anxiously at the sight of so much blood, it covered Loki's chest and his body all the way down to his boots. He gripped him tighter.

The grassy field was fortunately even and Thor thanked the Norns as there was less chance of tripping; he knew that every second could count.

And finally, at the edge of a small town, with the sun having fallen and where the ground was charred, the two princes were whisked away in a bright light from the sky.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, seriously, I feel like I was a bit out of it when writing this chapter (just sleep-deprived! nothing weird!) so I hope it's okay! ^^ I may come back later and change it if I feel like it needs some revision, but anyway...**

**Ehehehe, cliffie! Sorry, guys. Lol. There's really some messed up people in these woods, huh? Hahaha... _I see evil people._ (I guess if you don't get that joke I sound crazy XD)  
****Sorta wondering: did anybody suspect Malcinia's potential evilness? No? Yes? Anywho, if you guys have any specific questions about the story you want answered, best ask now as t****here's probably only one more chapter after this, or maybe two if it turns out to be long.**


	10. A Gray Surrender

**A/N: So extremely sorry for the long delay, and on the final chapter! My brain just refused to write this chapter, I don't know why. I hope you guys like it. ^^**

**(I have also updated _Pray For Rain_ for any of you reading that fic.)**

* * *

**- Chapter 10 - **

**_A Gray Surrender_**

When Thor arrived in Asgard with Loki in his arms, Heimdall's expression was blank except to nod in the direction of horses near the entrance. Thor rushed to them, then hoisted both himself and Loki onto his own horse's back. He held Loki tightly with one arm and led the horse with the other, fearing all the way that the severe jostling might cause Loki further harm. The second prince's eyes were still closed, and Thor would have feared he had lost consciousness if not for Loki's still-tight hold on his own throat. He was so white, too white even for Loki.

"Hold on, brother," Thor whispered desperately as they flew down the rainbow bridge, "hold on..." But there was so much blood and Loki's hands were slowly loosening.

Although it was a risk, Thor knew he would have to quicken the horse's pace in order to make it to the healing rooms on time, so he spurred the horse on, praying that the added movement wouldn't be to their detriment.

When the two princes finally, _finally_ reached the palace, guards took the horse as Thor carried his brother hurriedly through the winding corridors. Upon reaching the healing wing, he was greeted by Odin, who rushed toward them, his face grim and worried.

"Thor, son," he greeted, but his eyes quickly fell on the limp form in his arms. "Come, bring him, quickly!" The king escorted his sons the short way into the first healing room along the golden corridor, then stepped inside with them.

The head healer, Eir, was already ready for them. "Here, my prince," she quickly directed Thor to a nearby bed where he set down his brother. Loki's eyes were rolling up in his head, and just as his hands fell, Eir's hands replaced them. "Now you must go, my prince," she said to Thor, glancing at him. "We will look after him."

Thor shook his head, he didn't want to leave, not after everything! "No," he shook his head again, "I will not leave him."

"Son." The thunder god looked to his father, whose expression was still grave but strong. "You cannot aid him now, you must leave."

The king's gentle but determined hand on Thor's arm ushered him out as the thunderer's eyes remained on his brother as the healers worked. When they reached the entrance Thor remembered, "Father." He retrieved the knife from his belt. "This-" he held it up.

Odin's eye widened as he looked at the metal. "Thor..." he looked to the prince, then back at the knife. "Thor, where did you-"

"That is too long a tale, Father. But Loki said," he tried to control his tears as he glanced back to where the healers tended to the younger prince. "Loki said he could not heal, that- that this- that I should bring this..." He held the knife for Odin to take, and after an odd moment of hesitation, the king took it.

Quickly, the All-father nodded, then, with a hand on his son's back, led him out. "Good, Thor, this will help..."

"It will?" the young god asked, confused but too worried to think much on it.

"Yes," said the king, clearly lost in thought. He looked to his son. "Now remain here; I suspect the healers will need my help..." And again his gaze slipped away, but before Thor could comment, the king was gone- slipped back into the room where his second son lay.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Voices, hushed voices mingled in the air all around, like bees in a muffled hive. Loki couldn't make out the voices but they were familiar. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to ask who they were, but his lips felt sticky, like they were covered in honey. But the honey wasn't sweet, it tasted strange.

_So cold..._

Through the haze he thought he heard his father's voice, he tried to reach for it, find it amongst the throng, but his arms wouldn't move, his body heavy as if laden with weights at every corner.

"_Father, please_," he tried to say, but his words, too, would not heed his commands, lost in the heavy dark.

Suddenly, there was a sharp _pull_, as if the very air above him had grabbed hold of him and strained against his still-weighted body. Loki grit his teeth and tried to struggle, to _move_, but there was no strength left in his muscles, nor even his mind.

Then, like a curtain being pulled back from the world, he was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest on a bed. He was sat at its center, his chest bare but clean, the bed's sheets white, pristine and somehow too-smooth beneath him.

He looked up. There was nothing. A dark red chaos of nothingness all around- ahead, above, to every side and beneath. He shivered and felt the hairs on his body raise._ What is this place?_ He squinted into the crimson dark, trying to make out anything, shapes, colors, whatever might lay there, but there was nothing.

Then, a voice whispered at his side. The prince jerked his head toward it, but there, too, was nothing. It whispered next on his other side, too low to make out words.

Loki held his legs tighter, confused and frightened. "Who goes there?" he spoke to the murky darkness.

More whispers, low and gravelly, all around now.

"Brother?" he called, not daring to move even if he wished it.

Suddenly the form of his father appeared several steps away, before him.

"Father?" Loki said cautiously even though relief began falling over him. "Father!" he tried to move, to rush to his father, but he was paralyzed, stuck on the bed. He grimaced at his body, but it wouldn't budge. His eyes fell on the form of the All-father, who hadn't moved. "Father?" he said again.

Odin stood still, staring, his one eye unblinking. His mouth was slightly ajar, and, when Loki strained to hear, he could hear a continuous stream of words and breaths leaving his father's lips.

Loki shrunk back at the strangeness of it all, suddenly afraid of the image of his father. And when a blinding flash of pain and heat shot up Loki's spine, he fell onto the bed, arching his back in pain.

"Father!" he screamed through clenched teeth. "Help me!"

When Loki opened his eyes Odin was suddenly by the bed, staring at him. Next, his large right hand was around Loki's throat- _no_, not around, but rather placed lightly upon, touching but not hurting.

The prince stared at his father's unblinking eye, still afraid and uncertain what was happening. Pain flared across his throat where Odin touched, but it was not so painful that Loki could not bear it. There was a sound like rushing water all around next, only for him to realize a moment later it was voices, it seemed like dozens of them, speaking all at once.

Again, his father's mouth was open and he spoke, although his lips still did not move, "_Do not fight us, son_."

Loki frowned. "'Us'?" he asked, but his words were too small to fill the noisy space surrounding he and his father.

Then, when Odin removed his hand and the warmth subsided, Loki found himself suddenly on his stomach, although he did not remember flipping over. Before he could question his father, he felt warm hands, _many_ warm hands, all across his back, holding him there.

"No!" Loki screamed to them, but he wasn't certain why he was protesting.

"_Do not fight us, son_," said Odin's voice again, exactly the same as the first time.

Loki did stop, but he couldn't help the whimper that escaped at having so many hands on him, doing what, he didn't know. And when he glanced back and around, trying to spot who was touching him, he saw no one, not even his father. He yelped at the emptiness and the dark, disoriented and confused and _what in the Realms is happening?!_ Where were the hands coming from? What are they doing?

Without warning, the red darkness shifted, sputtered, _growled_, then changed, a black void eating what little red remained. The blanket of nothingness surrounded Loki and the small bed.

"..._Devour..._" something whispered into Loki's ear.

The trickster whimpered and looked about nervously. "W-who said that?"

Another whispered word he couldn't understand.

Then, beside him, although he couldn't see his father, and as if from across a great distance, "..._hold there, do not let him go! I will not..._" and his voice drifted across the void, empty and lost in a still wind.

"Father!" Loki tried to scream, but his voice was only air passing his teeth.

"..._and torment..._" said the same voice, whispering into his ear again.

Loki clutched at the white blankets beneath, trying to keep from trembling.

"..._Ruin..._"

He hid his face, feeling as though the darkness was trying to eat his skin, his mind- _stop!_

"..._Hollow..._"

It whirled all around, pushing down and in, caressing his skin in a blood as cold as death.

"..._Shatter the sky..._"

A sob caught in Loki's throat. He didn't understand these words or where they came from, but they filled him with absolute despair, as if the entire universe was falling down upon him, crushing him and he couldn't _breathe_.

"..._the Last..._" it whispered so quietly he thought he imagined it.

"No!" Loki screamed through gritted teeth, then he just screamed, then screamed again, a heat growing along his spine, filling his body like a moving wave. "_Somebody help me!_"

It stopped.

Silence.

There was darkness, nothingness. The bed was gone, his body was gone, there was no cold, no heat, no eyes, no skin, no teeth, _no no no no! _Nothing.

Then, slowly at first, so slowly, began a voice. The same voice out of the darkness. But the words no longer made sense, they seeped into his mind, skimming across his thoughts, then, they quickened, coming faster and faster until they were a blur of chaos and pushed together in a high-pitched shrill cry, grating against his mind and scratching and gouging and _ripping_-

.

Loki jerked awake, screaming and writhing and pushing and pulling everything he could get his hands on, but there were strong hands upon him, holding him down. Tight and terrifying and determined.

He tried to scream, tried to make his words come out, but they wouldn't so he growled and tried to push the hands away, _get away!_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Thor couldn't help it when he burst into the room. He had tried, _tried_ his best to stay away, to heed the Einherjar when they told him to stay back, but he _couldn't_. His brother was screaming and wailing and Thor's body acted on its own, reason and logic tossed aside for his instincts that raged inside his skull.

He paused, momentarily, when catching sight of half a dozen healers and guards holding his brother down, as well as his father.

"Father!" yelled Thor, wide-eyed.

His father, surprised, looked to him without moving. "Thor! You should not be here, we-"

The All-father's gaze locked back onto the struggling form of his second son.

Curious and worried, Thor rushed forward to look at his brother. He pushed half the healers and guards away on one side of the bed, then stood by his brother.

"Loki?" he said, half in a daze at the sight. The younger prince was on his stomach, face away from him and toward the All-father. "Brother?" Thor whispered. Down Loki's back, from the base of his skull to the small of his back, were a string of runes, hot and glowing an angry red, although, as he watched, they slowly began to fade. As if sensing their fade, the panicked movements of his little brother began to subside, small whimpers and hitched breaths the only thing left in their wake.

The All-father leaned back, a tired sigh leaving his lips. Sensing that whatever had been happening was now over, Thor moved to touch his brother, but first, he looked to his father, making certain that he would not somehow harm the trickster. Odin, sensing this, nodded with resigned permission.

Thor, carefully, and without touching the still slightly glowing marks upon his back, moved his brother so that he faced him. The smaller god's eyes were half-lidded, but still indicated that he was at least awake.

"Brother?" Thor whispered worriedly. When Loki didn't answer, the first prince looked to their father.

"Give him time, Thor," said the king with a sigh. "He will need time, much...time..." He then turned away, his movements slow and sluggish, as if he had just fought a lengthy battle- nay, a _war_.

Although he wished to inquire after his father, Thor's main concern right now was his little brother. "Brother," he tried again, leaning down close to the other's face. He ran several fingers through the dark hair as he looked his brother over. Touching the blood-covered neck, Thor realized that the cut had healed, the blood merely a remnant of the injury. Thor was relieved but still worried.

Eir appeared on the other side of the bed, hands clasping Loki's wrist as if checking for something. "He will heal, my prince," she said quietly. "He will live." Thor glanced at her kind face. "You should speak to your father, when you are ready," she finished.

Thor nodded but returned his attention to his brother. _What happened to you, Loki? What happened in that dark cave?_

.

After making certain Loki was well looked-after, Thor found his father in the room just outside the healing room, slumped in a large chair but still sitting up, strong and confident as he had ever seen him.

"Father?" Thor asked as he sat in a chair next to him.

The king sighed and immediately, almost as if in anger, lifted the dagger that Loki had given him. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice hard, his one eye fixed on his first-born.

Thor was somewhat taken aback, but he answered, "Loki gave it to me; it belonged to... he obtained it from the one who..." Thor looked down. "From she who tried to take his life." He glanced at his father as the aged king leaned in.

"Son," he began, almost urgently. "Tell me everything."

So Thor did, at least from what he had witnessed himself. The All-father listened intently and nodded occasionally, but otherwise said very little. When the end of the tale was reached, Odin shook his head and ran a tired hand across his face. He leaned back, into the chair and, once again, held up the dagger, eyeing it up and down.

"This," he said quietly, "is the Harrowing Blade." The first prince leaned a little closer, as if afraid he might miss something with that small distance. "It is a relic of an age lost. An age...even my father could not remember."

Thor frowned, eyes on the blade. "What do you mean?" he asked, curious.

"Did you know," Odin continued as if Thor had not spoken, "that this weapon could easily kill our kind? Any immortal, for that matter?"

The prince nodded, "She did say... something about it."

"Your brother is very fortunate," he paused, a small grimace flickered across his face before it disappeared. "His neck wound was treated in time; if Eir was not the most skilled Healer in the Realms he would have perished. And with my aid, well," the king seemed to lean further into his chair.

Next, he looked to the two Einherjar in the room and dismissed them with a hand. They left without a word, metal armor and boots swiftly sliding across the marble floor.

"Thor," Odin began, although he did not look to his son, his one-eyed gaze somewhere else, lingering. "Your brother... We could not heal the injury done to his back." His eye flicked to Thor's suddenly, and the prince felt as though it pierced him to the seat. "Listen," his said, voice resolute and, Thor knew, a command was about to be voiced. "You must never tell anyone of the runes carved upon your brother's skin."

Thor frowned. "But father, can you not heal-"

"No, son," he interrupted, his gaze still so hard, "we cannot- _I _cannot. The Blade's work was allowed to linger upon him too long; it has scarred him..."

The prince's eyes widened. Scarring an immortal was near impossible, there were always remedies for it, if the person truly wished to remove the marks. By his father's tone, he knew that this was not such a case- Loki would be scarred forever.

At his son's silence, the king continued. "But that is not why I insist upon your silence. Those runes are..." he hesitated, and it was strange, because Odin was ever as confident as his first son, and as quick-tongued as his second. But he looked the prince straight in the eye. "They are tied to your brother's will, Thor. And they can do so, so much worse..." Now both his hands moved to cover his weathered face and for a brief moment, Thor feared his father might begin to weep. Fortunately, he only sighed and removed his hands a moment later, looking down. "You must watch out for him, my son. There are few, if any, magic-wielders that would ever recognize those runes, but if any did, it could be disastrous, for Loki and for..." he trailed off and stared into the distance, as if he could see some faraway horizon no other of two-eyes could see.

After a moment of thinking on his father's strange words, Thor nodded resolutely. "I will, Father. I _will_. No one will know of it, I swear it."

His father looked to him with an almost reproachful look. "Do not swear what you cannot hold to."

"I know, Father, I am not a child." Thor did not mean it defensively, it was simply a fact, and he hoped that his voice reflected that.

Odin nodded. "I know, son." He patted a calloused hand on Thor's. "I know." He stood up and, surreptitiously, tucked the dagger into his robes. "Look after your brother," he said as he looked to the healing room's doors. "Tell him what I have told you. I will speak to him later." He glanced at Thor. "Do not worry about the healers and guards that were in the room with us. They have already been sworn to secrecy, tell your brother." He shook his head and grumbled his next words, "Now I must deal with your mother's wrath when she finds that I did not inform her immediately when her second son was hurt."

Thor stood and nodded, controlling the smirk that threatened to emerge, "Yes, Father." He then watched as his father walked away.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

At the sight of someone hunched over him, Loki flinched back, but as he blinked and recognizing his brother, he sighed, "Thor..."

Thor's attention was elsewhere, but hearing Loki speak he smiled, "Brother!" The elder prince clumsily aborted his obvious attempt at an embrace and opted to take Loki's hand instead.

"Ever so graceful, brother," Loki teased quietly, his throat feeling harsh and scratchy. The blinding smile that greeted him almost made Loki cringe, but he was too tired and boneless to even try it.

The blonde prince leaned in, both hands holding Loki's. "I thought I'd lost you..." he said quietly, bright blue eyes boring into Loki's green. The frown that now adorned the elder's face was wholly unwelcome after the brilliance of the smile before, the contrast grating on Loki's nerves.

"What happened?" asked Loki quietly, trying to look about, but his body was still too tired and all he could see was the ceiling and some of the walls of the healing room.

Thor pursed his lips. "Father and Eir healed you-"

"Father?" Loki asked, again trying to look around. "Where is he? Mother-?"

"Shh, shh, brother, they were just here, would you like me to call them?"

The trickster blinked, thinking. Finally, he said, "In a moment, I...I wish to..." he frowned, trying to find the right words. "Can we just stay here for a moment?"

The blonde head nodded with a small smile. "Of course, whatever you wish."

"Oh?" Loki teased. "_Whatever_ I wish?"

Thor looked at him reprovingly. "Don't get clever with me, brother."

"I thought I was always clever-"

"You are not so young anymore that I will spare you-"

"Spare me what?" Loki scoffed. "When have you ever spared me? I seem to recall you pummeling me into the grass not last week-"

"Only because you insist on-!" Thor stopped himself and grimaced slightly, leaning back. He sighed. Loki raised both brows and stared at him, a satisfying grin hiding, ready to emerge. Thor rolled his eyes. "Your teasing will get you into trouble some day, brother," he shook his finger.

"Hasn't it already?" asked Loki, amused.

Thor suddenly smiled, but it was a serious smile, contemplative as he looked down at Loki's sheets. "I am glad that you are back to yourself..."

The trickster frowned. _Back to myself..._ "When was I not?" he dared ask, already knowing the answer.

"I..." started Thor, eyes now serious as his brow furrowed slightly. He still avoided Loki's face. "I do not know what...I do not know how to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Loki asked, curious, although a small knot was slowly forming in his stomach.

And when Thor's blue gaze fell on him, he told him everything. Everything that their father had said, everything that Loki did not wish to hear. And yet... he was not sad for it.

The elder prince stared at him, apparently trying to gauge his reaction. "Loki? Are you listening to me?"

He nodded but said nothing. How could he despair when there had been so much _worse_, so much horror that could have been unleashed, instead? They had stopped it, stopped _her_ and _it_ and whatever other darkness that had threatened their home. So no. No, Loki wouldn't feel the dark, the void that lingered outside of his vision. It was a terror that he didn't wish to acknowledge, something that he knew was there but that he was never meant to know. Ignorance might seem the folly of the cowardly, but how many that had said those words could claim to have seen what Loki has? Very few, most certainly.

He looked to his brother, his companion, who was always there, who had saved him and watched over him when he could not protect himself. "Brother," Loki said, barely thinking on his words.

Thor waited, a slight and almost playful furrowed brow lingering there.

The trickster decided to think on simpler things. "What happened to...to..."

"To...Malcinia?" Thor filled in his words.

The name suddenly struck Loki. It sounded odd for some reason, as if it belonged in the distance, to the past he wished forgotten. Yet, he nodded.

"She was found, and brought back to Asgard's dungeons. You need not worry yourself over her. She is not a threat now."

Loki nodded again, absently.

"If it makes you feel any better," continued Thor on a lighter tone, "they found Furrow as well. The old man in the woods," he clarified.

"Oh?" Loki hadn't been expecting that name either. He briefly remembered that the man had saved them, that _he _was the one who knew of the woman's wickedness.

Thor nodded. "Although," he smiled a little, "he refused to speak to our warriors. Apparently, he threw rocks at them and scurried deeper into the forest. But...he is well." He smiled more fully now, as if to himself, and Loki couldn't resist smiling a little, as well.

_That strange old hermit. Who was he?_

Thor suddenly leaned in, closer. His face still looked worried, despite his previous smiles, and Loki couldn't help but think that, somehow, he looked older. Next, he wondered if he himself might have grown, too, alongside the elder. Thor's hand ran through Loki's hair roughly, then came to rest affectionately on the nape of his neck. The gesture was familiar, grounding, and Loki could do nothing but look into the other's eyes.

"Brother," said Thor softly, a hint of satisfied hope behind the word. "I am glad you are well. I've missed you." A small smile lingered, waiting to emerge.

Loki's gaze darted from one sky-blue eye to the other. "I... And I, you," he returned, feeling less and less like the silver-tongued god others named him to be.

The familiar golden smile of Thor greeted him next as he was pulled into a crushing embrace. "Do not ever do that to me again," whispered the thunder god into Loki's shoulder. "Not ever..."

Shocked at the seriousness in his elder brother's voice, Loki swallowed and cleared his throat. "I will... try," he said truthfully, somehow feeling as though a soothing lie would hurt more now than to speak truth.

The thunderer pulled back, sniffling his tears away. Taken aback, Loki remained silent, looking around.

"Well," said Thor, trying to regain his composure as he straightened himself, "I will get mother and father. Mother, especially, is anxious to see you awake..." he trailed off as he walked for the door.

Somehow, without his consent, Loki heard his own voice speak before the thunderer could reach the door, "I love you," he whispered.

Thor stopped. A moment passed before he turned around, smiling. "I know, brother," he said. "I love you, too." His sun-bright smile lit up the room as he walked away, his step ever lighter than it was before.

Blinking his own tears away, Loki smiled, too.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I must admit, I'd like to turn this into a series as I've already put in some things that point to ideas that could work in sequels. I also have a one-shot planned that ties into this story, although I don't know when I might (or if) write it. It might explain some parts of this story that might be a little confusing (however, I might wait to add those things in a true sequel, we'll see).**

**Until next time, I love you guys! X3**


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